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AN    AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


TBB  STOBT  OP  TUB  LORD'S  DIALINGS  WITB 


Mrs.  Amanda  Smith 

THE    COLORED   EVANGELIST 

CONTAINIKO  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  HeR  LiFE  WORK  OF  FaITH.  AND  IIeR  TRAVELS 

IN  America.  England,  Ireland,  Scotland.  India  and 
Africa,  as  an  Independent  Missionary. 


WITH   an   introduction   BT 

BISHOP    THOBURN,   OF    INDIA. 

''Hitherto  the  Lord  hath  helped  w^." 


CHICAGO : 

Meyer  &  Brother.  Publishers, 

108  Washington  Street, 

1893. 


Knterad  according  to  Act  of  Congresb  in  the  year  1893,  by 

AMANDA    SMITH 
in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congre(i«  at  Washington. 


PREFACE 


For  a  number  of  years  many  of  my  friends  have  said  to  me, 
"You  ought  to  write  out  an  account  of  your  life,  and  let  it  hv 
known  how  God  has  led  you  out  into  His  work." 

Some  time  before  that  wonderful  man  of  God,  John  S.  Inskip, 
passed  away,  he  said,  "Amanda,  you  ought  lo  write,"  and  he 
kindly  offered  to  assist  me  in  oretting  the  items  togetlu^r. 

Many  other  friends  in  America,  have  said  the  same,  and  I 
have  replied,  "  I  could  not  do  it,  for  I  don't  know  how  to  go  about 
it,"  and  so  would  not  entertain  the  thought. 

Time  passed  on,  and  after  I  was  in  England  a  while,  the  friends 
there  began  to  say  the  same  thing,  and  as  an  inducement  to  com- 
mence, told  me  that  it  might  be  done  much  cheaper  there  than 
in  America. 

As  I  was  constantly  on  the  go,  and  had  no  time  to  think  about 
it,  and  certainly  none  to  write,  things  remained  thus  until  after 
my  return  from  Africa.  Then  friends  in  different  places  again 
urged  me  to  do  this,  and  being  broken  down  in  health,  and  so  un- 
able to  labor  as  much  as  formerly,  I  began  to  think  of  it  more  seri- 
ously and  prayed  much  over  it,  asking  the  Lord,  if  it  was  His  will, 
to  make  it  clear  and  settle  me  in  it,  and  give  me  something  from 
His  Word  that  I  may  have  as  an  anchor. 

Asking  thus  for  light  and  guidanc*',  I  opened  my  Bible  while 
in  prayer,  and  my  eye  lighted  on  these  words:  "Now,  therefore, 
perform  the  doing  of  it,  and  as  there  was  a. readiness  to  will,  so 
there  may  be  a  performance  also  out  of  that  which  ye  have." 
(2nd  Cor.  viii:  11.) 

I  said,  "  Lord,  I  thank  Thee,  for  this  is  Thy  Word  to  me,  for 
what  I  have  asked  of  Thee.     Praised  be  Thy  name." 


IV.  Preface. 

And  from  that  moment,  my  heart  was  settled  to  do  it.  Bui 
as  the  time  has  gone,  and  so  much  has  seemed  to  come  in  to 
hinder,  and  several  persons  who  had  kindly  offered  to  assist  me, 
were  called  away  in  one  direction  or  another,  and  I  was  so  wearied 
and  the  task  looked  so  big,  my  heart  began  to  fail  me,  and  1 
thought  I  could  not  do  it. 

Again  I  went  to  the  Lord  in  prayer,  and  told  Him  all  about  it, 
and  asked  Him  what  I  should  do,  for  His  glory  alone  was  all  1 
sought.  He  whispered  to  my  heart,  clearly  and  plainly,  these 
words,  "Fear  thou  not,  I  will  help  thee."  (Isa.  xli:  13.)  Again  1 
praised  Him;  so  now  I  go  forward  with  full  faith  and  trust  that 
He  will  fulfill  His  own  promise. 

My  friends  who  know  me  best,  will  make  allowances  for  all 
defects  in  this  autobiographical  sketch;  and  I  believe  strangers 
also  will  be  charitable,  when  they  know  that  my  opportunities  for 
an  education  have  been  very  limited  indeed. 

Three  months  of  schooling  was  all  I  ever  had.  That  was  at  a 
school  for  whites;  though  a  few  colored  children  were  permitted 
to  attend.  To  this  school  my  brother  and  I  walked  five  and  a  half 
miles  each  day,  in  going  and  returning,  and  the  attention  we  re- 
ceived while  there  was  only  such  as  the  teacher  could  give  after 
the  requirements  of  the  more  favored  pupils  had  been  met. 

In  view  of  the  deficiency  in  my  early  education,  and  other  dis- 
advantages  in  this  respect,  under  which  I  have  labored,  I  crave  the 
indulgence  of  all  who  may  read  this  simple  and  unvarnished  story 

of  my  life. 

Amanda  Smith. 


NTRODUCTION. 


During  the  summer  of  1876,  while  attending  a  camp  meeting 
lit  Epworlh  Heights,  near  Cincinnati,  my  attention  was  drawn  to 
a  colored  lady  dressed  in  a  very  plain  garb,  which  reminded  me 
somewhat  of  that  worn  by  the  Friends  in  former  days,  who  was 
engaged  in  expounding  a  Bible  lesson  to  a  small  audience. 

I  was  told  that  the  speaker  was  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith,  and  that 
she  was  a  woman  of  remarkable  gifts,  who  had  been  greatly  blessed 
in  various  parts  of  the  country. 

Having  spent  nearly  all  my  adult  years  on  the  other  side  of 
the  globe,  my  acquaintance  in  America  was  by  no  means  an  ex- 
tensive one,  and  this  will  explain  the  fact  that  I  had  never  heard 
of  this  devout  lady  until  I  met  her  at  this  camp  meeting. 

Her  remarks  on  the  Bible  lesson  did  not  particularly  impress 
me,  and  it  was  not  until  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  when  I 
chanced  to  be  kneeling  near  her  at  a  prayer  meeting,  that  I  be- 
came impressed  that  she  was  a  person  of  more  than  ordinary  power. 

The  meetings  of  the  day  had  not  been  very  successful,  and  a 
spirit  of  depression  rested  upon  many  of  the  leaders.  A  heavy 
rain  had  fallen,  and  we  were  kneeling  somewhat  uncomfortably 
in  the  straw  which  surrounded  the  preacher's  stand. 

A  number  had  prayed,  and  T  was  myself  sharing  the  general 
feeling  of  depression,  when  I  was  suddenly  startled  by  the  voice 
of  song.  I  lifted  my  head,  and  at  a  short  distance,  probably  not 
more  than  two  yards  from  me,  T  saw  the  colored  sister  of  the 
morning  kneeling  in  an  upright  position,  with  her  hands  spread 
out  and  her  face  all  aglow. 

She  had  suddenly  broken  out  with  a  triumphant  song,  and 
while  I  was  startled  by  the  change  in  the  order  of  the  meeting,  I 
was  at  once  absorbed  with  interest  in  the  song  and  the  singer. 


VI.  Introduction. 

Something  like  a  hallowed  glow  seemed  to  rest  upon  the  dark 
face  before  me,  and  I  felt  in  a  second  that  she  was  possessed  of  a 
rare  degree  of  spiritual  power. 

That  invisible  something  which  we  are  accustomed  to  call 
power,  and  which  is  never  possessed  by  any  Christian  believer 
except  as  one  of  the  fruits  of  the  indwelling  Spirit  of  God,  was 
hers  in  a  marked  degree. 

From  that  time  onward  1  regarded  her  as  a  gifted  worker  in 
the  Lord's  vineyard,  but  I  had  still  to  learn  that  the  enduement  of 
the  Spirit  had  given  her  more  than  the  one  gift  of  spiritual  power. 

A  week  later  I  met  her  at  Lakeside,  Ohio,  and  was  again  im- 
pressed in  the  same  way,  but  I  then  began  to  discover  that  she 
was  not  only  a  woman  of  faith,  but  that  she  possessed  a  clearness 
of  vision  which  I  have  seldom  found  equaled. 

Her  homely  illustrations,  her  quaint  expressions,  her  warm- 
hearted appeals,  all  possess  the  supreme  merit  of  being  so  many 
vehicles  for  conveying  the  living  truths  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ  to  the  hearts  of  those  who  are  fortunate  enough  to  hear  her. 

A  few  years  after  m>[  return  to  India,  in  1876,  I  was  delighted 
to  hear  that  this  chosen  and  approved  worker  of  the  Master  had 
decided  to  visit  this  country.  She  arrived  in  1879,  and  after  a 
short  stay  in  Bombay,  came  over  to  the  eastern  side  of  the  empire, 
and  assisted  us  for  some  time  in  Calcutta.  She  also  returned  two 
years  later,  and  again  rendered  us  valuable  assistance. 

The  novelty  of  a  colored  woman  from  America,  who  had  in 
her  childhood  been  a  slave,  appearing  before  an  audience  in  Cal- 
cutta, was  sufficient  to  attract  attention,  but  this  alone  would  not 
account  for  the  popularity  which  she  enjoyed  throughout  her 
whole  stay  in  our  city. 

She  was  fiercely  attacked  by  narrow  minded  persons  in  the 
daily  papers,  and  elsewhere,  but  opposition  only  seemed  to  add  to 
her  power. 

During  the  seventeen  years  that  I  have  lived  in  Calcutta,  I  have 
known  many  famous  strangers  to  visit  the  city,  some  of  ichom  attracted 
large  audiences,  but  I  have  never  known  anyone  icho  could  draw  and 
hold  so  large  an  audience  as  Mrs.  Smith. 

She  assisted  me  both  in  the  church  and  in  open-air  meetings, 
and  never  failed  to  display  the  peculiar  tact  for  which  she  is 
remarkable. 

I  shall  never  forget  one  meeting  which  we  were  holding  in  an 


^  Intuoiu'ction.  vir. 

open  square,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  city.  It  was  at  a  time  of  no 
little  t-'xcitement,  and  some  Christian  preachers  had  been  roujjhly 
handled  in  the  same  square  a  few  evenings  before.  I  had  just 
spo'ien  myself,  when  I  noticed  a  great  crowd  of  men  and  boys, 
who  had  succeeded  in  breaking  ui)  a  missionary's  audience  on  the 
other  side  of  the  square,  rushing  towards  us  with  loud  cries  and 
threatening  gestures. 

If  left  to  myself  I  should  have  tried  to  gain  the  box  on  which 
the  speakers  stood,  in  order  to  command  the  crowd,  but  at  the 
critical  moment,  our  good  Sister  Smith  knelt  on  the  grass  and  be- 
iran  to  pray.  As  the  crowd  rushed  up  to  the  spot,  and  saw  her 
with  her  beaming  face  upturned  to  the  evening  sky,  pouring  out 
her  soul  in  prayer,  they  became  perfectly  still,  and  stood  as  if 
transfixed  to  the  spot!  Not  even  a  whisper  disturbed  the  solemn 
silence,  and  when  she  had  finished  we  had  as  orderly  a  meeting  as 
if  we  had  been  within  the  four  walls  of  a  church! 

In  those  days  a  well  known  theatrical  manager,  much  given 
to  popular  buffoonery,  wrote  to  me  inviting  me  to  arrange  to  have 
Mrs.  Smith  preach  in  his  theatre  on  a  certain  Sunday  evening.  I 
was  much  surprised  on  receiving  the  letter,  and  taking  it  to  her 
told  her  I  did  not  know  what  it  meant.  Several  friends,  who 
chanced  to  be  present,  at  once  began  to  dissuade  her: 

"Do  not  go.  Sister  Amanda,"  said  several,  speaking  at  once, 
"the  man  merely  wishes  to  have  a  good  opportunity  of  seeing 
you,  so  that  he  can  take  you  off  in  his  theatre.  lie  has  no  good 
purpose  in  view.  Do  not  trust  yourself  to  him  under  ;iny  circum- 
stances." 

After  a  moment's  hesitation  Mrs.  Smith  replied  in  language 
which  I  shall  never  forget: 

"  I  am  forbidden,"  she  said,  "  to  judge  any  man.  You  would 
not  wish  me  to  judge  you,  and  would  think  it  wrong:  if  any  of  us 
should  judge  a  brother  or  sister  in  the  church.  What  right  have 
I  to  judge  this  man?  I  have  no  more  right  to  judge  him  than  if 
he  were  a  Christian." 

She  said  she  would  pray  over  it  and  give  her  decision.  Sh-- 
did  so,  and  decided  to  accept  the  invitation. 

When  Sunday  evening  came  the  theatre  was  packed  like  a 
herring  box,  while  hundreds  were  unable  to  gain  admission.  I 
took  charge  of  the  meeting,  and  after  singing  and  prayer  intro- 
duced our  strange  friend  from  America. 


vin.  Introduction. 

She  spoke  simply  and  pointedly,  alluding  to  the  kindness  of 
the  manager  who  had  opened  the  doors  of  his  theatre  to  her,  in 
very  courteous  terms,  and  evidently  made  a  deep  and  favorable 
impression  upon  the  audience.  There  was  no  laughing,  and  no 
attempt  was  ever  made  subsequently  to  ridicule  her.  As  she 
was  walking  off  the  stage  the  manager  said  to  me; 

"If  j'ou  want  the  theatre  for  her  again  do  not  fail  to  let  me 
know.     I  would  do  anything  for  that  inspired  woman." 

During  Mrs.  Smith's  stay  in  Calcutta  she  had  opportunities 
for  seeing  a  good  deal  of  the  native  community.  Here,  again,  1 
was  struck  with  her  extraordinary  power  of  discernment.  We 
have  in  Calcutta  a  class  of  reformed  Hindus  called  Brahmos. 
They  are,  as  a  class,  a  very  worthy  body  of  men,  and  lat  that 
time  were  led  by  the  distinguished  KeshubChunder  Sen. 

Ever}'  distinguished  visitor  who  comes  to  Calcutta  is  sure  to 
seek  the  acquaintance  of  some  of  these  Brahmos,  and  to  study, 
more  or  less,  the  reformed  sj'Stem  which  they  profess  and  teach.  1 
have  often  wondered  that  so  few,  even  of  our  ablest  visitors,  seem 
able  to  comprehend  the  real  character  either  of  the  men  or  of 
their  nev/  system.  Mrs.  Smith  very  quickly  found  access  to 
some  of  them,  and  beyond  any  other  stranger  whom  I  have 
ever  known  to  visit  Calcutta,  she  formed  a  wonderfully  accurate 
estimate  of  the  character,  both  of  the  men  and  of  their  religious 
teaching. 

She  saw  almost  at  a  glance  all  that  was  strange  and  all  that  was 
iceak  in  the  men  and  in  their  system. 

This  penetrating  power  of  discernment  which  she  possesses  in 
so  large  a  degree  impressed  me  more  and  more  the  longer  I  knew 
her.  Profound  scholars  and  religious  teachers  of  philosophical 
bent  seemed  positively  inferior  to  her  in  the  task  of  discovering 
the  practical  value  of  men  and  systems  which  had  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  world! 

I  have  already  spoken  of  her  clearness  of  perception  and  power 
of  stating  the  undimmed  truth  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  Through 
association  with  her,  I  learned  many  valuable  lessons  from  her 
lips,  and  once  before  an  American  audience,  when  Dr.  W.  F. 
Warren  was  exhorting  young  preachers  to  be  willing  to  learn  from 
their  own  hearers,  even  though  many  of  the  hearers  might  be 
comparatively  illiterate,  I  ventured  to  second  his  exhortation  by 
telling  the  audience  that  I  hud  learned  more   that  had  been  of 


iNTKODiniON.  IX. 

actual  value  to  me  as  a  preacher  of  Christian  truth  from  Amanda 
Smith  than  from  any  other  one  person  1  had  ever  met. 

Throughout  Mrs.  Smith's  stay  in  India  she  was  always  cheerful 
and  hopeful.  In  this  respect,  too,  she  ditfered  from  most  visitors 
to  our  great  empire.  Some  adopt  gloomy  views  as  they  look  at  the 
weakness  of  Christianity,  and  observe  the  stupendous  fortifica- 
tions which  have  been  reared  by  the  followers  of  the  various  false 
religions  of  the  people. 

Some  even  yield  to  desr)air,  and  refuse  to  believe  that  India 
ever  can  be  saved  or  even  benefited,  while  only  a  very  few  are  able 
to  believe  not  only  that  India  will  yet  become  a  Christian  empire, 
but  that  Christ  will  yet  lift  up  the  people  of  this  land,  and  so  rev- 
olutionize or  transform  society  as  it  exists  to-day,  as  to  make  the 
people  practically  a  new  people. 

Our  good  Sister  Amanda  Smith  never  belonged  to  any  of  these 
despondent  classes. 

She  sometimes  was  touched  by  the  pictures  of  misery  which 
she  saw  around  her,  but  never  became  hopeless.  She  was  of  cheer- 
ful temperament,  it  is  true,  but  aside  from  personal  feeling,  she 
always  possessed  a  buoyant  hope  and  an  overcoming  faith,  which 
made  it  easy  for  her  to  believe  that  the  Saviour,  whom  she  loved 
and  served,  really  intended  to  save  and  transform  India. 

Soon  after  Mrs.  Smith's  visit  to  India,  another  Virginian  vis- 
ited Calcutta  on  his  way  around  the  globe  This  was  Mr.  Moncure 
D.  Conway. 

These  two  persons,  Mrs.  Smith  and  Mr.  Conway,  were  repre- 
sentative Virginians.  They  had  been  born  in  the  same  section  of 
the  country,  brought  up  as  Methodists,  and  were  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted, one  by  observation  and  the  other  by  experience,  with 
the  terrible  character  of  the  American  slave  system. 

Mr.  Conway  in  early  life  was  for  several  years  a  Methodist 
preacher,  but  by  his  own  published  confession  he  never  compre- 
hended what  the  true  spirit  of  Methodism  was.  He  was  at  one 
time  a  well  known  and  somewhat  popular  Unitarian  minister,  but 
finding  the  Unitarians  too  narrow  and  orthodox  for  a  man  of  his 
liberal  mind,  he  set  up  an  independent  church  or  organization  uf 
some  kind,  in  London,  and  preached  to  an  obscure  little  congrega- 
tion for  a  number  of  years,  until  his  last  experiment  ended  in  con- 
fessed failure. 

His  recorded  impressions  received  in  India  were  of  the  most 


X.  INTRODUCTION 

gloomy  kind.  He  saw  nothing  to  hope  for  in  the  condition  of  the 
peopU',  and  looked  at  them  in  their  helpless  state  with  blank  be- 
wilderment, if  not  despair.  He  passed  through  the  empire  with- 
out leaving  a  single  trace  of  light  behind  him,  without  making  an 
impression  for  good  upon  any  heart  or  life,  without  finding  an 
open  door  by  which  to  make  any  man  or  woman  happier  or  better, 
without,  in  short,  seeing  even  a  single  ray  of  hope  shining  upon 
what  he  regarded  as  a  dark  and  benighted  land. 

Mrs.  Smith,  the  other  Virginian,  without  a  tittle  of  Mr.  Con 
way's  learning,  and  deprived  of  nearly  every  advantage  which  he 
had  enjoyed,  not  only  retained  the  faith  of  her  childhood,  but  ma- 
tured and  developed  it  until  it  attained  a  standard  of  purity  and 
strength  rarely  witnessed  in  our  world. 

She  also  came  to  India,  but  unlike  the  other  Virginian,  she 
cherished  hope  where  he  felt  only  despair,  she  saw  light  where  he 
perceived  only  darkness,  she  found  opportunit  es  everywhere  for 
doing  good  which  wholly  escaped  his  observation,  and  during  her 
two  years'  staj'  in  the  country  where  she  went,  she  traced  out  a 
pathway  of  light  in  the  midst  of  the  darkness! 

As  she  left  the  country  she  could  look  back  upon  a  hundred 
homes  which  were  brighter  and  better  because  of  her  coming, 
upon  hundreds  of  hearts  whose  burdens  had  been  lightened  and 
whose  sorrows  had  been  sweetened  by  reason  of  her  public  and 
private  ministry. 

She  is  gratefully  rememhered  to  this  day  by  thousands  in  the  land. 

Her  life  affords  a  striking  comment  at  once  upon  the  value  of 
the  New  Testament  to  those  who  receive  it,  both  in  letter  and  in 
spirit,  and  upon  the  hopelessness  of  the  Gospel  of  unbelief  which 
obtains  so  wide  a  hearing  at  the  present  day. 

A  thousand  Virginians  of  the  Conway  stripe  might  come  and 
go  for  a  thousand  years  without  making  India  any  better,  but  a 
thousand  Amanda  Smiths  would  suffice  to  revolutionize  an  empire! 

I  am  very  glad  to  learn  that  Mrs.  Smith  has  at  last  been  in- 
duced to  yield  to  the  importunities  of  friends  and  prepare  a  sketch 
of  her  eventful  life.  I  trust  that  the  story  will  be  told  without 
reserve  in  all  its  simplicity,  as  well  as  in  all  its  strength,  and  I 
doubt  not  that  God  will  crown  this  last  of  her  many  labors  with 
abundant  blessings. 

J.  M.  Thoburn. 

Calcutta,  October  22,  1891. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

CHAPTER    1 17 

BIRTH,  PARENTAGE  AND  DELIVERANCE  FROM  SLAVERY 
THROUGH  THE  CONVERSION  OF  MY  MOTHER'S 
YOUNG   MISTRESS  —  MY  PIOUS   GRANDMOTHER. 

CHAPTER     II.  24 

REMOTAL  TO  PENNSYLVANIA  —  GOING  TO  SCHOOL  — 
FIRST  RELIGIOUS  EXPERIENCES  —  PERNICIOUS 
READING. 

CHAPTER    III.  .... 

SOME   OF  THE    REMEMBRANCES   OF   MY   GIRLHOOD  DAYS 

—  HELPING    RUNAWAYS  — MY    MOTHER   AROUSED 

—  A   NARROW    ESCAPE  —  A   TOUCHING   STORY. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R     I  V.  39 

MOVING  FROM  LOWE's  FARM— MARRIAGE— CONVERSION. 

CHAPTER     V.  .50 

HOW  I  BOUGHT  MY  SISTER  PRANCES  AND  HOW  THE 
LORD   PAID   THE    DEBT. 

CHAPTER    VI.  .  .  .57 

MARRIAGE  AND  DISAPPOINTED  HOPES  —  RETURN  TO 
PHILADELPHIA — A  STRANGER  IN  NEW  YORK — 
MOTHER  JONES'  HELP  —  DEATH    OF    xMV    FATHER. 

CHAPTER     VII.  7:i 

THE  BLESSING  — ABOUT  SEEKING  SANCTIFICATION  BY 
WORKS. 


XII.  Contents. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  ^VIII.  .....        92 

MY  FIRST  TEMPTATION,  AND  OTHER  EXPERIENCES  —  I 
GO  TO  NEW  UTRECHT  TO  SEE  MY  HUSBAND  — 
A  LITTLE  EXPERIENCE  AT  BEDFORD  STREET 
CHURCH,  NEW   YORK  —  FAITH    HEALING. 

CHAPTER    IX.  ....  .       103 

VARIOUS  EXPERIENCES  —  HIS  PRESENCE  —  OBEDIENCE 
—  MY  TEMPTATION  TO  LEAVE  THE  CHURCH  — 
WHAT   PEOPLE   THINK  —  SATISFIED. 

CHAPTER    X 131 

"THY  WILL  BE  DONE,"  AND  HOW  THE  SPIRIT  TAUGHT 
ME  ITS  MEANING,  ALSO  THAT  OF  SOME  OTHER 
PASSAGES  OF  SCRIPTURE  —  MY  DAUGHTER  MAZIE'S 
CONVERSION. 

CHAPTER    XI 132 

MY  CALL  TO  GO  OUT  —  AN  ATTACK  FROM  SATAN  —  HIS 
SNARE  BROKEN  —  MY  PERPLEXITY  IN  REGARD 
TO  THE  TRINITY  —  MANIFESTATION  OF  JESUS  — 
WAS   IT   A   DREAM? 

CHAPTER    XII.  .  .147 

MY  LAST  CALL — HOW  I  OBEYED  IT,  AND  WHAT  WAS 
THE   RESULT. 

CHAPTER    XIII.  .  .  .  .164 

MY  REMEMBRANCES  OF  CAMP  MEETING  —  SECOND  CAMP 
MEETING  —  SINGING  —  OBEDIENCE  IS  BETTER 
THAN   SACRIFICE. 

CHAPTER    XIV.  .176 

KENNEBUNK  CAMP  MEETING  —  HOW  I  GOT  THERE,  AND 
WAS  ENTERTAINED  —  A  GAZING  STOCK  —  HAMIL- 
TON CAMP  MEETING  —  A  TRIP  TO  VERMONT  — 
THE   LOST   TRUNK,    AND    HOW   IT   WAS   FOUND. 

CHAPTER    XV.  .  ...       193 

MY  EXPERIENCE  AT  DR.  TAYLOR'S  CHURCH,  NEW  YORK, 
AND  ELSEWHERE  — THE  GENERAL  CONFERENCE 
AT  NASHVILLE  —  HOW  I  WAS  TREATED  AND  HOW 
IT   ALL   CAME   OUT  —  HOW   THINGS   CHANGE. 


Contents.  xiii. 

PAGE 

C  H  A  P  T  K  II     X\\.  205 

HOW  I  COT  TO  KNOW  1 1-1. K,  TKNN.,  TO  TlIK  NATIONAL 
CAMP    MEETING,    AND    WHAT    FOLLOWED. 

CHAPTER    XVII 315 

SEA  CLIFF  CAMP  MEETING,  .lULY,  1872  — FIRST  THOUGHTS 
OF  AFRICA—  MAZIE's  EDUCATION  AND  MARRIAGE 

—  MY    EXPERIENCE    AT   YARMOUTH 

CHAPTER    X.VIII 225 

PITTMAN  CHURCH,  PHILADELPHIA  —  HOW  I  BECAME 
THE  OWNER  OF  A  HOUSE,  AND  WHAT  BECAME  OF 
IT  —  THE  MAYFLOWER  MISSION,  BROOKLYN — AT 
DR.    CUYLER's. 

CHAPTER     XIX 240 

BROOKLYN  —  CALL  TO  GO  TO  ENGLAND  —  BALTIMORE  — 
VOYAGE  OVER. 

CHAPTER     XX.  .255 

LIME  STREET  STATION,  LIVERPOOL,  ENGLAND,  AND  THE 
RECEPTION  I  MET  WITH  THERE  — PAGES  FROM 
MY   DIARY. 

CHAPTER    XXI 266 

VISIT  TO  SCOTLAND,  LONDON,  AND  OTHER  PLACES  — 
CONVERSATION  WITH  A  CURATE  — GREAT  MEET- 
ING   AT   PERTH  — HOW    I    CAME    TO   GO   TO    INDIA. 

CHAPTER    XXII.  ...      286 

IN  PARIS— ON  THE  WAY  TO  INDIA  —  FLORENCE  —  ROME 

—  NAPLES  —  EGYPT. 

CHAPTER    XXIII 300 

INDIA  — NOTES  FROM  MY  DIARY  —  BASSIM  —  A  BLESSING 
AT  FAMILY  PRAYER  —  NAINI  TAL  —  TERRIBLE 
FLOODS    AND    DESTRUCTION    OF    LIFE. 

CHAPTER    XXIV.  .317 

THE  GREAT  MEETING  AT  BANGALORE  —  THE  ORPHANAGE 
AT   COLAR  —  BURMAH  —  CALCUTTA  —  ENGLAND. 


xrv.  Contents. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER    XXY.  .  .  .  .331 

AFRICA  —  INCIDENTS  OF  THE  VOYAGE  —  MONROVIA  — 
FIRST  FOURTH  OF  JULY  THERE  —  A  SCHOOL  FOR 
BOYS  —  CAPE  PALMAS  —  BASSA  —  TEMPERANCE 
WORK  — THOMAS   ANDERSON 

CHAPTER    XXVI 346 

FORTSVILLE  —  TEMPERANCE  MEETINGS  —  EVIL  CUSTOMS 
—  THOMAS  BROWN  —  BALAAM  —  JOTTINGS  FROM 
THE  JUNK  RIVER  —  BROTHER  HARRIS  IS  SANC- 
TIFIED. 

CHAPTER    XXVII 362 

CONFERENCE  AT  MONROVIA  —  ENTERTAINING  THE 
BISHOP  —  SIERRA  LEONE  —  GRAND  CANARY  —  A 
STRANGE  DREAM  —  CONFERENCE  AT  BASSA  — 
BISHOP  TAYLOR. 

CHAPTER     XXVIII.  .378 

OLD  CALABAR  —  VICTORIA'S  JUBILEE  —  CAPE  MOUNT  — 
CLAY- ASHLAND  HOLINESS  ASSOCIATION  —  RELIG- 
ION OF  AFRICA  —  TRIAL  FOR  WITCHCRAFT  —  THE 
WOMEN    OF    AFRICA. 

CHAPTER     XXIX 393 

HOW  I  CAME  TO  TAKE  LITTLE  BOB  —  TEACHING  HIM 
TO  READ  —  HIS  CONVERSION  —  SOME  OP  HIS 
TRIALS,  AND  HOW  HE  MET  THEM  —  BOB  GOES  TO 
SCHOOL. 

C  H  A  P  T  E  R    X  X  X .  .  .  .406 

NATIVE  BABIES  —  VISIT  TO  CREEKTOWN  —  NATIVE 
SUPERSTITIONS  —  PRODUCTS  OF  AFRICA  —  DISAP- 
POINTED   EMIGRANTS. 

CHAPTER    XXXI 418 

LIBERIA  —  BUILDINGS  — THE  RAINY  SEASON  —  SIERRA 
LEONE  —  ITS  PEOPLE  —  SCHOOLS  —  WHITE  MIS- 
SIONARIES—  COMMON  SENSE  NEEDED  —  BROTHER 
JOHNSON'S  EXPERIENCE  —  HOW  WE  GET  ON  IN 
AFRICA. 


Contents.  xv. 

PAGE 

J  II  A  I^  T  K  11     X  X  X  I  I 431 

CAPE    TALMAS — HOW    I    (JOT    TllEKE  —  BRQTnEK    WARE 

—  BKOTllEU  SHAIU'KU'S  EXPEUIENCE  — A  CJKEAT 
REVIVAL. 

UHAPTEIl     XXXUI 451 

EMIGRATION   TO  LIBERIA  —  SCHOOLS  OF  LIBERIA  —  MIS- 
SION    SCHOOLS  —  FALSE     IMPRESSIONS  —  IGNOR- 
ANCE     AND      HELPLESSNESS      OF      EMIGRANTS  - 
AFRICAN    ARISTOCRACY. 

CHAPTER    XXXIV.  466 

LETTERS  AND  TESTIMONIALS  —  BISHOP  TAYLOR  — 
CHURCH  AT  MONROVIA— UPPER  CALDWELL  — 
SIERRA     LEONE — GREENVILLE    -CAPE     PALMAS 

—  BAND  OF  HOPE  TEMPERANCE  SOCIETY  AT  MON- 
ROVIA—LETTERS—MRS. PAYNE  — MRS.  DENMAN 

—  MRS.  INSKIP  — REV.  EDGAR  M.  LEVY — ANNIE 
WITTENMYER  —  DR.  DORCHESTER  —  MARGARET 
BOTTOME  — MISS  WILLARD  — LADY  HENRY  SOM- 
ERSET. 

CHAPTER    XXXV 486 

RETURN  TO  LIVERPOOL  —  FAITH  HEALING  —  BISHOP 
TAYLOR  LEAVES  AGAIN  FOR  AFRICA  —  USE  OF 
MEANS  — THE  STORY  OF  MY  BONNET  —  TOKENS 
OF  god's  HELP  AFTER  MY  RETURN  FROM  AFRICA. 

CHAPTER     XXXVI.  ....  498 

WORK  IN  ENGLAND  — IN  LIVERPOOL,  LONDON,  MAN- 
CHESTER, AND  VARIOUS  OTHER  PLACES— I  GO 
TO  SCOTLAND  AND  IRELAND  —  SECURE  PASSAGE 
TO  NEW  YORK  —  INCIDENTS  OF  THE  VOYAGE  — 
HOME   AGAIN  — CONCLUDING   WORDS. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Mrs.  Amanda  Smith,      .... 

Mr.  Samuel  Berry,  Father  of  x\manda  Smith, 

Mazie  D.  Smith, 

Market  Place,  Bombay,    . 

Preparing  a  Meal,  Bombay,  . 

Hill  Men,  Naini  Tal, 

NiANi  Tal,  Before  the  Land  Slide, 

Native  Christian  Family,  India, 

Cooper's  Wharf,  Monrovia,  . 

The  Paine  Family, 

Ashman  Street,  Monrovia,    . 

My  First  Sunday  School,  Plukie, 

Home  of  President  Johnson, 

Native  Soldiers,  Liberia, 

Home  of  Late  President  Roberts, 

Kate  Roach,  Sierre  Leone, 

On  the  St.  Paul  River, 

General  Sherman's  House,  Monrovia, 

Frances,  Native  Bassa  Girl, 

Bob,    ...... 

Baptist  Mission  Station, 

Boys  of  Mission  School,  . 

Mission  School,  Rotifunk, 

Cape  Palmas,  .... 

Bishop  Taylor  Holding  a  Palaver, 
The  Receptacle  for  Emigrants,  Liberia, 


page 

Frontispiece. 

62 

.   121 

300 
.   304 

310 
.   314 

324 
.   332 

330 
.-  338 

348 
.   352 

356 
.   364 

368 
.   372 

380 
.   390 

396 
.   420 

422 
.   424 

432 
.   456 

460 


(XVI.) 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


OF 


AMANDA    SMITH 


CHAPTER    I. 


BIRTH,  PARENTAGE  AND  DELIVERANCE  FROM  SLAVERY  THROUGH 
THE  CONVERSION  OF  MY  MOTHER'S  YOUNG  MISTRESS  —  MY 
PIOUS   GRANDMOTHER. 

I  was  born  at  Long  Green,  Md.,  Jan.  23rd,  1837.  My  father's 
name  was  Samuel  Berry.  My  mother's  name,  Mariam.  Matthews 
was  her  maiden  name.  My  father's  master's  name  was  Darby 
Insor.  My  mother's  master's  name,  Shadrach  Green.  They  lived 
on  adjoining  farms.  They  did  not  own  as  large  a  number  of  black 
people,  as  some  who  lived  in  the  neighborhood.  My  father  and 
mother  had  each  a  good  master  and  mistress,  as  was  said..  After 
my  father's  master  died,  his  young  master,  Mr.  E.,  and  himself, 
had  all  the  charge  of  the  place.  They  had  been  boys  together, 
but  as  father  was  the  older  of  the  two,  and  was  a  trustworthy  serv- 
ant, his  mistress  depend(»d  on  him,  and  much  was  entrusted  to 
his  care.  As  the  distance  to  Baltimore  was  only  about  twenty 
miles,  more  or  less,  my  father  went  there  with  the  farm  produce  once 
or  twice  a  week,  and  would  sell  or  buy,  and  bring  the  money  home 
to  his  mistress.  She  was  very  kind,  and  was  proud  of  him  for  his 
faithfulness,   so  she  gave  him    a  chance    to    buy  himself.     She 

(17) 


18  Autobiography  of 

allowrd  him  so  much  for  his  work  and  a  chance-  to  make 
what  oxtra  he  could  for  himself.  So  he  used  to  make  brooms 
and  husk  mats  and  take  them  to  market  with  the  produce. 
This  work  he  would  do  nights  after  his  day's  work  was 
done  for  his  mistress.  He  was  a  great  lime  burner.  Then  in 
harvest  time,  after  working  for  his  mistress  all  day,  he  would 
walk  three  and  four  miles,  and  work  in  the  harvest  field  till  one 
and  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  then  go  home  and  lie  down  and 
sleep  for  an  hour  or  two,  then  up  and  at  it  again.  He  had  an 
important  and  definite  object  before  him,  and  was  willing  to  sacri- 
fice sleep  and  rest  in  order  to  accomplish  it.  It  was  not  his  own 
liberty  alone,  but  the  freedom  of  his  wife  and  five  children.  For 
this  he  toiled  day  and  night.  He  was  a  strong  man,  with  an 
excellent  constitution,  and  God  wonderfully  helped  him  in  his 
struggle.  After  he  had  finished  paying  for  himself,  the  next  was 
to  buy  my  mother  and  us  children.  There  were  thirteen  children 
in  all,  of  whom  only  three  girls  are  now  living.  Five  were  born  in 
slavery.  I  was  the  oldest  girl,  and  my  brother,  William  Talbart, 
the  oldest  boy.  He  was  named  after  a  gentleman  named  Talbart 
Gossage,  who  was  well  known  all  through  that  part  of  the  country. 
I  think  he  was  some  relation  of  Mr.  Ned  Gossage,  who  lost  his  life 
at  Carlisle,  Pa.,  some  time  before  the  war,  in  trying  to  capture  two 
of  his  black  boys  who  had  run  away  for  their  freedom.  I  remem- 
ber distinctly  the  great  excitement  at  the  time.  The  law  then 
was  that  a  master  could  take  his  slave  anywhere  he  caught  him. 
These  boys  had  been  gone  for  a  year  or  more,  and  were  in  Carlisle 
when  he  heard  of  their  whereabouts.  He  determined  to  go  after 
them.  So  he  took  with  him  the  constable  and  one  or  two  others. 
Many  of  his  friends  did  not  want  him  to  go,  but  he  would  not  hear 
them.  I  used  to  think  how  strange  it  was,  he  being  a  professed 
Christian,  and  a  class  leader  in  the  Methodist  Church,  and  at  the 
time  a  leader  of  the  colored  people's  class,  that  he  should  be  so 
blinded  by  selfishness  and  greed  that  he  should  risk  his  own  life  to 
put  into  slavery  again  those  who  sought  only  for  freedom.  .^How 
selfishness,  when  allowed  to  rule  us,  will  drive  us  on,  and  make  us 
act  in  spirit  like  the  great  enemy  of  our  soul,  who  ever  seeks  to 
recapture  those  who  have  escaped  from  the  bondage  of  sin.j  How 
we  need  to  watch  and  pray,  and  on  our  God  rely.  , 

He  did  not  capture  the  boys,  but  in  the  struggle  he  lost  his 
own  life,  and  was  brought  home  dead. 


Amanda  Smith.  19 

But  I  turn  ajjrain  to  my  story.  As  1  have  said,  my  fatln-r  hav- 
ing paid  for  himself  was  anxious  to  purchase  his  wife  and  children; 
and  to  show  how  the  Lord  helix'd  in  this,  I  must  here  tell  of  tin- 
wonderful  conversion  of  my  mother's  young  mistress  and  of  her 
subsequent  dfath.  and  the  marvelous  answer  to  my  grandmother's 
prayers. 

There  was  a  Methodist  Camp  Meeting  held  at  what  was  at  that 
time  called  Cockey'sCamp  dround.  It  was,  I  think,  about  twenty 
miles  away,  and  the  young  mistress,  with  a  number  of  other  young 
pfoplr.  went  to  this  meeting.  My  mother  went  along  to  assist  and 
wait  on  Miss  Celie,  as  she  had  always  done.  It  was  an  old-fash- 
ioned, n'd-hot  Camp  Meeting.  These  young  jx^ople  went  just  as 
a  kind  of  picnic,  and  to  have  a  good  time  looking  on.  They  were 
staunch  Presbyterians,  and  had  no  affinity  with  anything  of  that 
kind.  They  went  more  out  of  curiosity,  to  see  the  Methodists 
shout  and  hollow,  than  anything  else;  because  they  did  shout  and 
hollow  in  those  days,  tremendously.  Of  course  they  were  respect- 
ful. They  went  in  to  the  morning  meeting  and  sat  down  quietly 
to  hear  the  sermon;  then  they  purposed  walking  about  the  other 
part  of  the  day,  looking  around,  and  having  a  pleasant  time.  As 
they  sat  in  the  congregation,  the  minister  preached  in  demonstra- 
tion of  the  Power  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  My  mother  said  it  was 
a  wonderful  time.  The  spirit  of  the  Lord  got  hold  of  my  young 
mistress,  and  she  was  mightily  convicted  and  converted  right  there 
before  she  left  the  ground;  wonderfully  converted  in  the  old- 
fashioned  way:  the  shouting,  hallelujah  way.  Of  course  it  dis- 
gusted those  who  were  with  her.  They  were  terribly  put  out. 
Everything  was  spoiled,  and  they  did  not  know  how  to  get  her 
home.  They  coaxed  her,  but  thank  th«'  Lord,  she  got  struck 
through.  Then  they  laughed  at  lur  a  littlr.  Then  they  scolded 
her,  and  ridiculed  her;  but  they  could  not  do  anything  with  her. 
Then  they  begged  her  to  be  quiet;  told  her  if  she  would  just  be 
quiet,  and  wait  till  they  got  home,  and  wait  till  morning,  they 
would  be  satisfied.  My  mother  was  awfully  glad  that  the  Lord 
had  answered  her  and  grandmother's  prayer.  As  I  have  heard  my 
mother  tell  this  story  she  has  wept  as  though  it  had  just  been  a 
few  days  ago.  Mother  had  only  been  converted  about  two  years 
before  this,  and  had  always  prayed  for  Miss  Celie,  so  her  heart  was 
bounding  with  gladness  when  Miss  Celie  was  converted.  But  of 
course  she  must  hold  on  and  keep  as  quiet  as  possible:  they  had 


20  Autobiography  of 

enough  to  contend  with,  with  Miss  Celie.  Mother  said  she  sat  in 
the  back  part  of  the  carriage  and  prayed  all  the  time.  After 
coaxing  her  awhile  she  said  she  would  try  and  keep  quiet,  and 
wait  till  morning.  But  when  she  got  home  she  could  not  keep 
quiet,  but  began  first  thing  to  praise -the  Lord  and  shout.  It 
aroused  the  whole  house,  and  of  course  they  were  frightened,  and 
thought  she  had  lost  her  mind.  But  nay,  verily,  she  had  received 
the  King,  and  there  was  great  joy  in  the  city.  They  got  up  and 
wondered  what  was  the  matter.  They  thought  she  was  dreadfully 
excited  at  this  meeting.  They  did  all  they  could  to  quiet  her.  but 
they  could  not  do  much  with  her.  But  finally  they  did  get  her 
quiet  and  she  went  to  bed.  But  her  heart  was  so  stirred  and  filled. 
She  wanted  to  go  then  to  where  they  would  have  lively  meetings. 
She  wanted  to  go  to  the  Methodist  church.  Oh  my!  That  was 
intolerable.  They  could  not  allow  that.  Then  she  wanted  to  go 
to  the  colored  people's  church.  No,  they  would  not  have  that. 
So  they  kept  her  from  going.  Then  they  separated  my  mother 
and  her.  They  thought  maybe  mother  might  talk  to  her,  and 
keep  up  the  excitement.  So  they  never  let  them  be  together  at  all, 
if  possible.  About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  was  the  great  dairy, 
and  Miss  Celie  used  to  slip  over  there  when  she  got  a  chance  and 
have  a  good  time  praying  with  mother  and  grandmother.  Finally 
they  found  they  could  do  nothing  with  Miss  Celie.  So  the  young 
people  decided  they  would  get  together  and  have  a  ball  and  get 
the  notion  out  of  her  head.  So  they  planned  for  a  ball,  and  got  all 
ready.  The  gentlemen  would  call  on  Miss  Celie;  she  was  very 
much  admired,  anyhow;  and  they  would  talk,  and  they  did  every- 
thing they  could.  She  did  not  seem  to  take  to  it.  But  finally  she 
said  to  mother  one  day,  ""Well,  Mar}-,  it's  no  use;  they  won't  let 
me  go  to  meeting  anywhere  I  want  to  go,  and  I  might  as  well  give 
up  and  go  to  this  ball."  But  my  mother  said.  "Hold  on,  my  dear, 
the  Lord  will  deliver  you."  She  used  to  put  on  her  sunbonnet 
and  slip  down  through  the  orchard  and  go  down  to  the  dairy  and 
tell  mother  and  grandmother;  mother  used  to  assist  grandmother 
in  the  dairy.     One  day  mother  said  she  came  down  and  said: 

"Oh!  Mary,  I  can't  hold  out  any  longer;  they  insist  on  my 
going  to  that  ball,  and  I  have  decided  to  go.  It's  no  use."  So 
they  had  a  good  cry  together,  went  off  and  prayed,  and  that 
was  the  last  prayer  about  the  ball.  How  strange!  And  yet  God 
had  that  all  in  his  infinite  mercy  —  opening  the  prison  to  them 


AtiANDA  Smith.  21 

that  were  bound.  Just  a  week  before  the  ball  came  otr,  Miss  C\'li.' 
was  taken  down  with  typhoid  fever.  They  didn't  think  she  was 
going  to  die  when  she  was  taken  down,  but  they  sent  for  the  doc- 
tors, the  best  in  the  land.  Four  of  them  watched  over  her  nighl 
and  day.  Everything  was  done  for  her  that  could  hv  donr.  Sh»' 
always* wanted  motlur  with  her,  to  sit  up  in  the  bed  and  hold  her: 
she  seemed  only  to  rest  comfortably  thm.  She  soomcd  to  hav 
sinking  spells.  The  skill  of  the  doctors  was  baflled,  and  they  said 
they  could  not  do  any  more.  So  one  day  after  one  of  these  sinking 
spells,  she  called  them  all  around  her  bed  and  said:  "I  want  to 
speak  to  you.  1  have  one  request  I  want  to  make." 
They  said,  "Anything,  my  dear." 

"I  want  you  to  promise  me  that  you  will  let  Samuel  have 
Mariam  and  the  children."  Then  they  had  my  mother  get  up  out 
of  the  bed  at  once.  Of  course  they  didn't  want  her  to  hear  that; 
and  they  said: 

"Now,  my  dear,  if  you  will  keep  quiet,  you  may  be  a  little 
better."  And  then  she  went  off  in  a  kind  of  sinking  spdl.  Wlun 
she  said  this,  and  they  sent  my  mother  out,  she  ran  with  all  her 
might  and  told  grandmother,  and  grandmother's  faith  saw  the 
door  open  for  the  freedom  of  her  grandchildren;  and  she  ran  out 
into  the  bush  and  told  Jesus.  Of  course  my  mother  had  to  hurry 
back  so  as  not  to  b3  missed  in  the  house.  Miss  Cdie  went  on  that 
way  for  three  days,  and  they  would  quiet  her  down.  When  the  second 
day  came,  and  she  made  the  request,  and  th(»y  sent  my  mother 
out,  she  ran  and  told  grandmother  that  Miss  Celie  had  madv  the 
same  request;  then  she  ran  back  to  the  house  again,  and  grand- 
mother \v^nt  out  and  told  Jesus.  At  last  it  came  to  the  third  and 
last  day,  and  the  doctor  said:  "She  can  only  last  such  a  length  of 
time  without  there  is  a  change:  so  what  you  do.  you  must  do 
quickly." 

Mother  was  in  the  bed  behind  her,  holding  her  up.  She  called 
them  all  again,  and  said,  "I  want  you  to  make  me  one  promise: 
that  is,  that  you  will  let  Samurl  have  Mariam  and  the  children." 
"Oh:  yes,  my  dear,"  they  said,  "we  will  do  anything." 
My  mother  was  a  great  singer.  When  Miss  Celie  got  the 
promise,  she  folded  her  hands  together,  and  leaning  her  head  upon 
my  mother's  breast  she  said,  "Now,  Mary,  sing." 

And  as  best  she  could,  she  did  sing.  It  was  hard  work,  for 
her  heart  was  almost  broken,  for  she  loved  her  as'  one  of  her  owq 


32  Autobiography  op 

children.  While  she  sang,  Miss  Celie's  sweet  spirit  swept  through 
the  gate,  washed  in  the  blood  of  the  lamb.  Hallelujah!  what  a 
Saviour.  How  marvelous  that  God  should  lead  in  this  mysterious 
way  to  accomplish  this  end. 

I  often  say  to  people  that  I  have  a  right  to  shout  more  than 
some  folks;  I  have  been  bought  twice,  and  set  free  twice,  and  so  I 
feel  I  have  a  good  right  to  shout.     Hallelujah! 

I  was  quite  small  when  my  father  bought  us,  so  know  nothing 
about  the  experience  of  slavery,  because  I  was  too  young  to  have 
any  trials  of  it.  How  well  I  remember  my  old  mistress.  She 
dressed  very  much  after  the  Friends'  style.  She  was  very  kind 
to  me,  and  I  was  a  good  deal  spoiled,  for  a  little  darkey.  If  I 
wanted  a  piece  of  bread,  and  if  it  was  not  buttered  and  sugared  on 
both  sides,  I  wouldn't  have  it;  and  when  mother  would  get  out  of 
patience  with  me,  and  go  for  a  switch,  I  would  run  to  my  old  mis- 
tress and  wrap  myself  up  in  her  apron,  and  I  was  safe.  And  oh! 
how  I  loved  her  for  that.  They  were  getting  me  ready  for  market, 
but  I  didn't  know  it.  I  suppose  that  is  why  they  allowed  me  to 
do  many  things  that  otherwise  I  should  not  have  been  allowed  to 
do.  They  used  to  take  me  in  the  carriage  with  them  to  church  on 
Sunday.  How  well  I  remember  my  pretty  little  green  satin  hood, 
lined  inside  with  pink.  How  delighted  I  was  when  they  used  to 
take  me.  Then  the  young  ladies  would  often  make  pretty  little 
things  and  give  to  my  mother  for  me.  Mother  was  a  good  seam- 
stress; she  used  to  make  all  of  our  clothes,  and  all  of  father's  every 
day  clothes  — coats,  pants  and  vests.  She  had  a  wonderful  faculty 
in  this;  she  had  but  to  see  a  thing  of  any  style  of  dress  or  coat,  or 
what-not,  and  she  would  come  home  and  cut  it  out.  People  used 
to  wonder  at  it.  There  were  no  Butterick's  patterns  then  that  she 
could  get  hold  of.  So  one  had  to  have  a  good  head  on  them  if 
they  kept  nearly  in  sight  of  things.  But  somehow  mother  was 
always  equal  to  any  emergency.  My  dear  old  mistress  used  to 
knit.  I  would  follow  her  around.  Sometimes  she  would  walk  out 
into  the  yard  and  sit  under  the  trees,  and  I  would  drag  the  chair 
after  her;  I  was  too  small  to  carry  it.  She  would  sit  down  awhile, 
and  I  would  gather  pretty  flowers.  When  she  got  tired  she  would 
walk  to  another  spot,  and  I  would  drag  the  chair  again.  So  we 
would  spend  several  hours  in  this  way.  My  father  had  proposed 
buying  us  some  time  before,  but  could  not  be  very  urgent.  He  had 
to  ask.  and  then  wait  a  long  interval  before  he  could  ask  again. 


Amanda  SMiTn.  23 

Two  of  tho  younf?  ladies  of  onr  family  were  to  be  marriftl,  and  as 
my  brother  and  myself  were  the  oldest  of  the  children,  one  of  us 
would  have  2:one  to  one,  and  one  to  tlie  other,  as  a  dowry.  Hut 
how  (Jod  moves  in  a  mysterious  way  His  wonders  to  perform.  My 
grandmotiier  was  a  woman  of  deep  piety  and  great  faith.  I  have 
often  heard  my  mother  say  that  it  was  to  the  prayers  and  miirhty 
faith  of  my  grandmother  that  we  owed  our  freedom.  How  I  do 
praise  the  Lord  for  a  Godly  grandmother,  as  well  as  mother.  She 
had  often  i)rayed  that  God  would  open  a  way  so  that  her  grand- 
children might  be  free.  The  families  into  which  these  young  ladies 
were  to  marry,  were  not  considered  by  the  black  folks  as  good 
masters  and  mistresses  as  we  had;  and  that  was  one  of  my  grand- 
mother's an.xieties.  And  so  she  prayed  and  believed  that  somehoMf 
God  would  open  a  way  for  our  deliverance.  She  had  often  triej 
and  proved  Him,  and  found  Him  to  be  a  present  help  in  trouble. 
And  so  in  the  way  I  have  already  related,  the  Lord  did  provide 
and  my  father  was  permitted  to  purchase  our  freedom. 
"  In  some  way  or  other 

The  Lord  will  provide; 

It  may  not  be  my  way, 

It  may  not  be  thy  way. 

And  yet  in  His  own  way. 

The  Lord  will  provide." 


CHAPTER    II. 

REMOVAL  TO  PENNSYLVANIA — GOING   TO  SCHOOL — FIRST  RELIGIOUS 
EXPERIENCES — PERNICIOUS    READING. 

After  my  father  had  got  us  all  free  and  settled,  he  wanted  to 
go  and  see  his  brother,  who  had  run  away  for  his  freedom  several 
years  before  my  father  bought  himself.  The  laws  of  Maryland  at 
that  time  were,  that  if  a  free  man  went  out  of  the  state  and  stayed 
over  ten  days,  he. lost  his  residence,  and  could  be  taken  up  and  sold, 
unless  some  prominent  white  person  interposed;  and  then  some- 
times with  difficulty  they  might  get  him  off.  But  many  times 
poor  black  men  were  kidnapped,  and  would  be  got  out  of  the  way 
quick.  For  men  who  did  that  sort  of  business  generally  looked 
out  for  good  opportunities.  My  mother's  people  all  lived  in  Mary- 
land. She  hated  to  leave  her  mother,  my  dear  grandmother,  and 
so  never  would  consent  to  go  North.  But  when  my  father  went 
away  to  see  his  brother,  and  stayed  over  the  ten  days,  she  thought 
best  to  go.  Poor  mother  !  How  well  I  remember  her.  After  a 
week  how  anxious  she  was.  She  used  to  sit  by  the  fire  nearly  all 
night.  It  was  in  the  fall  of  the  j-ear  I  know,  but  I  am  not  able  to 
tell  just  what  year  it  was.  After  my  father's  death,  my  sister, 
not  knowing  the  value  of  the  free  papers,  allowed  them  all  to  be 
destroyed.  We  were  all  recorded  in  the  Baltimore  court  house. 
Many  times  I  had  seen  my  father  show  the  papers  to  people.  They 
had  a  large  red  seal — the  county  seal — and  my  father,  or  any  of  us 
traveling,  would  have  to  show  our  free  papers.  But  those  I  have 
not  got,  so  cannot  tell  the  year  or  date.  But,  by  and  by,  the  ninth 
day  came.  I  saw  my  mother  walk  the  floor,  look  out  of  the  win- 
dow, and  sigh.  I  used  to  get  up  out  of  my  bed  and  sit  in  the 
corner  by  the  fire  and  watch  her,  and  see  the  great  tears  as  she 
would  wipe  them  away  with  her  apron.  She  would  say;  "Amanda, 
why  don't  you  stay  in  bed? " 

(24) 


Amanda  Smuii.  25 

1  woukl  in:ikt'  :m  cxcust'  to  sl;iy  willi  her.  SoincliiiK'S  I  would 
cry  and  say  I  was  sick.  Then  she  would  call  me  to  her  and  let  nn' 
lay  my  luad  in  her  hq) ;  and  there  is  no  place  on  earth  so  sweet  to 
a  child  as  a  mother's  lap.  I  can  almost  feel  the  tender,  warm, 
downy  lap  of  my  motlu-r  now  as  I  write,  for  so  it  seemed  to  me. 
I  loved  my  father,  and  thought  he  was  the  grandest  man  that  ever 
lived.  I  was  always  the  favorite  of  my  father,  and  I  was  sorry 
enough  when  he  was  away,  and  when  I  saw  my  mother  cry,  I 
would  cry,  too.  Ten  days  had  pa.sscd,  and  father  had  not  come 
yet. 

Every  day  some  of  the  good  farmers  around  would  call  to  see 
if  "Sam  "  had  got  home  yet.  My  father  was  much  respected  by 
all  the  best  white  i)eople  in  that  neighborhood,  and  many  of  them 
would  not  have  said  anything  to  him  ;  but,  "If  nothing  was  said 
to  Insor's  Sam  about  going  out  of  the  state  and  staying  over  ten 
days,  why  all  the  niggers  in  the  county  would  be  doing  the  same 
thing! " 

So  this  was  the  cause  of  the  inquiry.  Oh!  no  one  knows  the 
sadness  and  agony  of  my  poor  mother's  heart.  Finally  the  day 
came  when  father  returned.  Then  the  friends;  white  and  black, 
who  wished  him  well,  advised  him  to  leave  as  quickly  as  possible. 
And  now  the  breaking  up.  We  were  doing  well,  and  father  and 
mother  had  all  the  work  they  could  do.  The  white  people  in  the 
neighborhood  were  kind,  and  gave  my  mother  a  good  many  things, 
so  that  we  children  always  had  plenty  to  eat  and  wear.  We  had 
a  house,  a  good  large  lot,  and  a  good  garden,  pigs,  chickens,  and 
turkeys.  And  then  my  mother  was  a  great  economist.  She  could 
make  a  little  go  a  great  ways.  She  was  a  beautiful  washer  and 
ironer,  and  a  better  cook  never  lifted  a  pot.  I  get  my  ability  in 
that  (if  I  have  any)  from  my  dear  mother.  Then  withal  she  was 
an  earnest  Christian,  and  had  strong  faith  in  God,  as  did  also  my 
grandmother.  She  was  deeply  pious,  and  a  woman  of  marvelous 
faith  and  prayer.  For  the  reason  stated  my  parents  determined 
to  move  from  Maryland,  and  so  went  to  live  on  a  farm  owned  by 
John  Lowe,  and  situated  on  the  Baltimore  and  York  turnpike  in 
the  State  of  Pennsylvania. 

My  father  and  mother  both  could  read.  But  I  never  remem- 
ber hearing  them  tell  how  they  were  taught.  Father  was  the 
better  reader  of  the  two.  Always  on  Sunday  morning  after  break- 
fast he  would  call  us  children  around  and  read  the  Bible  to  us.     I 


26  Autobiography  of 

never  kneW  him  to  sit  down  to  a  meal,  no  matter  how  scant,  but 
what  he  would  ask  God's  blessing  before  eating.  Mother  was  very 
thoughtful  and  scrupulously  economical.  She  could  get  up  the 
best  dinner  out  of  almost  nothing  of  anybody  I  ever  saw  in  my 
life.  She  often  cheered  my  father's  heart  when  he  came  home  at 
night  and  said  :  "  Well,  mother,  how  have  you  got  on  to-day?  " 

"  Very  well,"  she  would  say.  It  was  hard  planning  sometimes; 
yet  we  children  never  had  to  go  to  bed  hungry.  After  our  even- 
ing meal,  so  often  of  nice  milk  and  mush,  she  would  call  us  chil- 
dren and  make  us  all  say  our  prayers  before  we  went  to  bed.  I 
never  remember  a  time  when  I  went  to  bed  without  saying  the 
Lord's  Prayer  as  it  was  taught  me  by  my  mother.  Even  before 
we  were  free  I  was  taught  to  say  my  prayers. 

I  first  went  to  school  at  the  age  of  eight  years,  to  the  daughter 
of  an  old  Methodist  minister  named  Henry  Dull;  my  teacher's 
name  was  Isabel  Dull.  She  taught  a  little  private  school  opposite 
where  my  mother  lived,  in  a  private  house  belonging  to  Isaac 
Hendricks  (Bishop  Hendricks'  grandfather).  She  was  a  great 
friend  of  my  mother's,  and  Avas  very  pretty,  and  very  kind  to  us 
children.  She  taught  me  my  first  spelling  lesson.  There  was 
school  onl}'  in  the  summer  time.  I  had  about  six  weeks  of  it.  I 
first  taught  myself  to  read  by  cutting  out  large  letters  from  the 
newspapers  my  father  would  bring  home.  Then  I  would  lay  them 
on  the  window  and  ask  mother  to  put  them  together  for  me 
to  make  words,  so  that  I  could  read.  I  shall  never  forget  how 
delighted  I  was  when  I  first  read:  "The  house,  the  tree,  the 
dog,  the  cow."  I  thought  I  knew  it  all.  I  would  call  the  other 
children  about  me  and  show  them  how  I  could  read.  I  did  not 
get  to  go  to  school  any  more  till  I  was  about  thirteen  years  old. 
Then  we  had  to  go  about  five  miles,  my  brother  and  myself. 
There  were  but  few  colored  people  in  that  part  of  the  country  at 
that  time,  to  go  to  school  (white  school),  only  about  five  and  they 
were  not  regular;  but  father  and  mother  were  so  anxious  for  us  to 
go  that  they  urged  us  on,  and  I  was  anxious  also.  I  shall  never 
forget  one  cold  winter  morning.  The  sun  was  bright,  the  snow 
very  deep,  and  it  was  bitterly  cold.  My  brother  did  not  go  that 
day,  but  I  wanted  to  go.  Mother  thought  it  was  too  cold;  she 
was  afraid  I  would  freeze;  but  I  told  her  I  could  go,  and  after  a 
little  discussion  she  told  me  I  might  go.  She  told  me  I  could  put 
on  my  brother's  heavy  boots.     I  had  on  a  good  thick  pair  of  stock- 


Amanda  Smith.  27 

inps,  a  warm  lins^'V-woolsey  dress,  and  was  well  wrapped  up.  ()(T 
I  start«>d  lo  my  two  and  a  half  mile  school  house, — John  Rule's 
school  house  on  the  Turnpike.  The  first  half  mile  I  got  on  i)retty 
well,  a  gcx)d  deal  up  hill,  but  ()  how  cold  I  began  to  get,  and  being 
so  wrapped  up  I  couldn't  get  on  so  well  as  I  thought  I  could.  I 
was  near  freezing  to  death.  My  first  thought  was  to  go  back,  but 
I  was  too  plucky,  I  was  afraid  if  I  told  mother  she  wouldn't  let 
me  go  again,  so  I  kept  still  and  went.  When  I  got  to  the  school 
house  door,  I  found  I  couldn't  open  it  and  couldn't  speak,  and  a 
white  boy  came  up  and  said,  "Why  don't  you  go  in':"'  Then  I 
found  I  couldn't  speak,  as  I  tried  and  couldn't.  He  opened  the 
door  and  I  went  in  and  some  one  came  to  me  and  took  off  my  things 
and  they  worked  with  me,  I  can't  tell  how  long,  before  I  recovered 
from  my  stupor.  There  were  a  great  many  farmers'  daughters, 
large  girls,  and  boys,  in  the  winter  time,  so  that  the  school  would 
be  full,  so  that  after  coming  two  and  a  half  miles,  many  a  day  1 
would  get  but  one  lesson,  and  that  would  be  while  the  other  schol- 
ars were  taking  down  their  dinner  kettles  and  putting  their  wraps 
on.  All  the  white  children  had  to  have  their  full  lessons,  and  if 
time  was  left  the  colored  children  had  a  chance.  I  received  in  all 
about  three  months'  schooling. 

At  thirteen  years  of  age  I  lived  in  Strausburg,  sometimes  it 
was  called  Shrewsbury,  about  thirteen  miles  from  York,  on  the 
lialtimore  and  York  turnpike.  I  lived  with  a  Mrs.  Latimer.  She 
was  a  Southern  lady,  was  born  in  Savannah,  Georgia.  She  was  a 
widow,  with  five  children.  It  was  a  good  place,  Mrs.  Latimer  was 
very  kind  to  me  and  I  got  on  nicely.  It  was  in  the  spring  I  went 
there  to  live,  and  sometime  in  the  winter  a  great  revival  broke  out 
and  went  on  for  weeks  at  the  Allbright  Church.  I  was  deeply 
interested  and  impressed  by  the  spirit  of  the  meeting.  It  was  an 
old-fashioned  revival,  scores  were  converted.  No  colored  persons 
went  u\)  to  be  prayed  for:  there  were  but  few  anywhere  in  the 
neighborhood.  One  old  man  named  Moses  Rainbow,  and  his  two 
sons,  Samuel  and  James,  were  the  only  colored  people  that  lived 
anywhere  within  three  or  four  miles  of  the  town.  This  meeting 
went  on  for  four  or  five  weeks.  When  it  closed  a  series  of  meet- 
ings commenced  at  the  Methodist  Church. 

One  of  the  members  was  Miss  Mary  Hloser.  daughter  <jf  George 
Bloser,  well  known  through  all  that  region  of  country  for  his  deep 
piety  and  Christian  character,  as  was  Miss  Mary,  also.     She  was 


28  AnoHUKiHAriiY  of 

|)OW«'rful  in  pniy.T.  I  nrvcr  h.'iird  a  younfr  ptTSon  who  know  how 
to  so  lake  hold  of  Go<l  for  souls.  Shr  was  a  power  for  good  ovcry- 
whorc  she  went.  How  many  souls  I  have  seen  her  lead  to  the 
Cross! 

One  night  as  she  was  speaking  to  persons  in  the  congrega- 
tion, she  rame  to  me,  a  \kh)t  colored  girl  sitting  away  back  by  the 
dwr.  and  with  entreaties  and  tears,  which  I  really  felt,  she  asked  me 
•logo  forward.  I  was  the  only  colored  girl  there,  but  I  went.  She 
knell  beside  me  with  her  arm  around  me  and  prayed  for  me.  O, 
how  she  prayed:  I  was  ignorant,  but  prayed  as  best  I  could.  The 
mi'eling  closed.  1  went  to  get  up,  but  found  I  could  not  stand. 
They  took  hold  of  me  and  stood  me  on  my  feet.  My  strength 
seemed  to  come  to  me,  but  I  was  frightened.  I  was  afraid  to  step. 
I  seemed  to  be  so  light.  In  my  heart  was  peace,  but  I  did  not 
know  how  to  exercise  faith  as  I  should.  I  went  home  and  resolved 
I  would  be  the  Lord's  and  live  for  him.  All  the  days  were  happy 
and  bright.  1  sang  and  worked  and  thought  that  was  all  I  needed 
to  do.  Then  I  joined  the  Church.  I  don't  remember  the  name 
of  the  minister,  but  1  well  remember  the  name  of  my  class  leader 
was  Joshua  Ludrick.  I  liked  him  for  his  lung  power,  for  I 
thought  then  there  was  a  good  deal  of  religion  in  loud  prayers  and 
shouts.  You  could  hear  him  pray  half  a  mile  when  he  would.get 
I)ro|M'rly  stirred.  He  was  leader  of  the  Sunday  morning  class, 
which  Convened  after  the  morning  preaching.  My  father  and 
mother,  to  encourage  me  in  my  new  life,  joined  the  Church  and 
the  same  cla.ss,  so  as  to  save  me  from  going  out  at  night.  Mrs. 
Latimer's  children,  three  of  them,  went  to  the  Sunday  School,  and 
I  must  get  home  .so  as  to  have  dinner  in  time  for  the  children  to 
get  off,  btit  I  was  black,  so  could  not  be  led  in  class  before  a  white 
j>or8on,  must  wait  till  the  white  ones  were  through,  and  I  would 
get  such  a  scolding  when  I  got  home,  the  children  would  all  be  so 
vexed  with  me,  and  Mrs.  Latimer,  and  my  troubles  had  begun.  I 
prayed  and  thought  it  was  my  cross.  I  thought  I  will  change  my 
seat  in  the  class,  maybe  that  will  help  me,  and  sat  in  the  first  end 
of  the  pew,  as  the  leader  would  always  commence  on  the  first  end 
and  go  down.  When  I  sat  in  the  first  end,  then  he  would  com- 
mence at  the  lower  end  and  come  up  and  leave  me  last.  Then  I 
sat  between  two,  thinking  he  would  lead  the  two  above  me  and 
then  lead  me  in  turn,  but  he  would  lead  the  two  and  then  jump 
across  me  and  lead  all  the  others  and  lead  me  last.     I  told  my 


Amanda  Smith.  29 

father  I  got  scolded  for  getting  home  so  late  and  making  the  chil- 
dren late  for  school.  Father  said  he  would  speak  to  Mr.  Ludrick 
about  it,  but  if  he  did,  it  made  no  change,  and  it  came  to  where  I 
must  decide  either  to  give  up  my  class  or  my  service  place.  We 
were  a  large  family,  and  father  and  mother  thought  I  must  keep 
my  situation,  so  I  had  to  give  up  my  class.  It  did  not  do  me 
much  good,  anyhow,  to  be  scolded  every  time  I  went,  so  I  became 
careless  and  lost  all  the  grace  I  had,  if  I  really  had  any  at  all.  I 
was  light  hearted  and  gay,  but  I  always  would  say  my  prayers  and 
read  my  Bible  and  good  books  and  meant  to  get  religion  when  I 
knew  I  could  keep  it.  I  wouldn't  be  a  hypocrite,  no,  not  I,  so  I 
went  on,  wrapped  up  in  myself.  Then  I  began  to  watch  defects 
in  professors,  which  is  a  poor  business  for  any  one.  That  is  not 
the  way  to  get  near  to  God.  I  saw  many  things  and  heard  many 
things  said  and  done  by  professors  that  I  would  not  do,  I  was 
much  better  than  they  were,  so  I  went  on  in  my  own  way  for 
awhile. 

It  has  been  years  ago.  While  living  at  Black's  hotel,  in 
Columbia,  I  remember  reading  a  book.  I  forget  the  title  of  it,  but 
It  was  an  argument  between  an  infidel  and  a  Christian  minister. 
As  I  went  on  reading  I  became  very  much  interested.  "Oh,"  I 
thought  to  myself,  "  I  know  the  Christian  minister  will  win."  It 
starts  with  the  infidel  asking  a  question.  The  minister's  answer 
took  two  pages,  while  the  question  asked  only  took  one  page  and  a 
half.  As  they  went  on  the  minister  gained  three  pages  with  his 
answer;  and  the  infidel  seemed  to  lose.  And  then  it  went  on,  and 
by  and  by  the  minister  began  to  lose,  and  the  infidel  gained.  So  it 
went  on  till  the  infidel  seemed  to  gain  all  the  ground.  His  ques- 
tions and  argument  were  so  pretty  and  put  in  such  a  way  that 
before  I  knew  it  I  was  captured;  and  by  the  time  I  had  got  through 
the  book  I  had  the  whole  of  the  infidel's  article  stamped  on  my 
memory  and  spirit,  and  the  Christian's  argument  was  lost;  I  could 
scarcely  remember  any  of  it.  Well,  I  was  afraid  to  tell  any  one. 
Oh,  if  any  one  should  find  out  that  I  did  not  believe  in  the  exist- 
ence of  God.  I  longed  for  some  one  to  talk  to  that  I  might  empty 
my  crop  of  the  load  of  folly  that  I  had  gathered.  And  I  read 
everything  I  could  get  my  hands  on,  so  as  to  strengthen  me  in  my 
new  light,  as  I  thought.  Yet  I  wanted  to  forget  it,  and  get  out  of 
it.  But  it  was  like  a  snare;  I  could  not.  A  year  had  gone.  I 
talked  big  and  let  out  a  little  bit  now  and  then.  How  beautiful 
the  old  hymn: 


30  AUTOBIOORAPHY   OF 

'*  When  Josus  saw  me  from  on  high, 
Beheld  my  soul  in  ruin  lie, 
He  looked  at  me  with  pitying  eye, 
And  said  to  me  as  he  passed  by, 
'With  God  you  have  no  union.'  " 

Oh,  how  true!  I  longed  for  deliverance,  but  how  to  get  free. 
The  Lord  sent  help  in  this  way:  My  aunt,  my  mother's  half  sister, 
who  now  lives  in  Baltimore,  and  whom  I  loved  very  much,  came 
up  to  York,  and  then  to  Wrightsville,  to  visit  father  and  us  chil- 
dren. I  lived  in  Columbia;  and  I  went  over  to  see  her  and  had 
her  come  over  with  me.  "Now,"  I  thought,  "this  will  be  my 
chance  to  unburden  by  heart.  Aunt  lives  away  down  in  the 
country  in  Quaker  Bottom,  or  in  the  neighborhood  of  Hereford, 
Md.,  and  I  know  no  one  there,  and  no  one  knows  me;  I  shall  never 
be  there;  and  just  so  that  no  one  knows  around  here,  that  is  all  I 
care  for." 

My  auat  was  very  religiously  inclined,  naturally.  She  was 
much  like  my  mother  in  spirit.  So  as  we  walked  along,  crossing 
the  long  bridge,  at  that  time  a  mile  and  a  quarter  long,  we  stop- 
ped, and  were  looking  off  in  the  water.  Aunt  said,  "How  won- 
derfully God  has  created  everything,  the  sky,  and  the  great 
waters,  etc."  ^ 

Then  I  let  out  with  my  biggest  gun;  I  said,  "How  do  you 
know  there  is  a  God?"  and  went  on  with  just  such  an  air  as  a 
poor,  blind,  ignorant  infidel  is  capable  of  putting  on.  My  aunt 
turned  and  looked  at  me  with  a  look  that  went  through  me  like  an 
arrow;  then  stamping  her  foot,  she  said: 

"  Don't  you  ever  speak  to  me  again.  Anybody  that  had  as 
good  a  Christian  mother  as  you  had,  and  was  raised  as  you  have 
been,  to  speak  so  to  me.  I  don't  want  to  talk  to  you."  And  God 
broke  the  snare.  I  felt  it.  T  felt  deliverance  from  that  hour. 
How  many  times  I  have  tlianked  God  for  my  aunt's  help.  If  she 
had  argued  with  me  I  don't  believe  I  should  ever  have  got  out  of 
that  snare  of  the  devil  And  I  would  say  to  my  readers,  "Beware 
how  you  read  books  tainted  with  error."  There  are  enough  of  the 
orthodox  kind  that  will  help  you  if  you  will  be  content  with  them, 
and  the  Book  of  boolvs.     Amen. 


CHAPTER    III. 

aOMB  OF  THE  REMEMBRANCES  OF  MY  GIRLHOOD  DAYS  — HELPING 
RITNAWAYS  — MY  MOTHER  AROUSED  —  A  NARROW  ESCAPE  — 
A  TOUCHING   STORY. 

The  name  of  my  father's  landlord  was  John  Lowe,  he  was  a 
wealthy  farmer,  lived  between  New  Market  and  Shrewsbury,  Pa. 
Pretty  much  all  the  farmers  round  about  in  those  days  were  anti- 
slavery  men;  Joseph  Hendricks,  Clark  Lowe,  and  a  number  of 
others.  My  father  worked  a  great  deal  for  Isaac  Hendricks,  who 
used  to  keep  the  Blueball  Tavern.  I  and  the  children  have  gath- 
ered many  a  basket  of  apples  out  of  the  orchard,  and  many  a  pail 
of  milk  I  have  helped  to  carry  to  the  house,  and  often  at  John 
Lowe's  as  well;  I  used  to  help  them  churn  often.  And  then  old 
Thomas  Wantlen,  who  used  to  keep  the  store;  how  well  I  remem- 
ber him.  John  Lowe  would  allow  my  father  to  do  what  he  could 
in  secreting  the  poor  slaves  that  would  get  away  and  come  to  him 
for  protection.  At  one  time  he  was  Magistrate,  and  of  course  did 
not  hunt  down  poor  slaves,  and  would  support  the  law  whenever 
things  were  brought  before  him  in  a  proper  way,  but  my  father 
and  mother  were  level  headed  and  had  good  broad  common  sense, 
so  they  never  brought  him  into  any  trouble.  Our  house  was  one 
of  the  main  stations  of  the  Under  Ground  Railroad.  My  father 
took  the  "Baltimore  Weekly  Sun"  newspaper;  that  always  had 
advertisements  of  runaway  slaves.  After  giving  the  cut  of  the 
poor  fugitive,  with  a  little  bundle  on  his  back,  going  with  his  face 
northward,  the  advert Isj'mcnt  would  read  something  like  this: 
Thr.M-  thousand  dollars  reward!  Ran  away  from  Anerandell 
Counn-.  Maryland,  such  a  date,  so  many  feet  high,  scar  on  the 
right  side  of  the  forehead  or  some  other  partof  the  body,— belong- 
ing to  Mr.  A.  or  B.     So  sometimes  the  excitement  was  so  high  we 

(31) 


33  Autobiography  op 

had  to  be  very  discreet  in  order  not  to  attract  suspicion.    My  father 
was  watched  closely. 

I  have  known  him  to  lead  in  the  harvest  field  from  fifteen  to 
twenty  men  —  he  was  agreat  cradler  and  mower  in  those  days  — 
and  after  working  all  day  in  the  harvest  field,  he  would  come  ' 
home  at  night,  sleep  about  two  hours,  then  start  at  midnight  and 
walk  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  and  carry  a  poor  slave  to  a  place  of 
security;  sometimes  a  mother  and  child,  sometimes  a  man  and 
wife,  other  times  a  man  or  more,  then  get  home  just  before  day. 
Perhaps  he  could  sleep  an  hour  then  go  to  work,  and  so  many 
times  baffled  suspicion.  Never  but  once  was  there  a  poor  slave 
taken  that  my  father  ever  got  his  hand  on,  and  if  that  man  had 
told  the  truth  he  would  have  been  saved,  but  he  was  afraid. 

There  was  a  beautiful  woods  a  mile  from  New  Market  on 
the  Baltimore  and  York  Turnpike;  it  was  called  Lowe's  Camp 
Ground.  It  was  about  three  quarters  of  a  mile  from  our  house. 
My  mother  was  a  splendid  cook,  so  we  arranged  to  keep  a  boarding 
house  during  the  camp  meeting  time.  We  had  melons,  and  pies 
and  cakes  and  such  like,  as  well.  Father  was  very  busy  and  had 
not  noticed  the  papers  for  a  week  or  two,  so  did  not  know  there 
was  any  advertisement  of  runaways.  There  were  living  in  New 
Market  certain  white  men  that  made  their  living  by  catching  run- 
away slaves  and  getting  the  reward.  A  man  named  Turner,  who 
kept  the  post  office  at  New  Market,  Ben  Crout,  who  kept  a  regular 
Southern  blood-hound  for  that  purpose,  and  John  Hunt.  These 
men  all  lived  in  New  Market.  Then  there  was  a  Luther  Amos, 
Jake  Hedrick,  Abe  Samson  and  Luther  Samson,  his  son.  I  knew 
them  all  well.  Samson  had  a  number  of  grey-hounds.  So  these 
fellows  used  to  watch  our  house  closely,  trying  every  way  to  catch 
my  father.  One  night  during  camp  meeting,  between  twelve  and 
one  o'clock,  we  children  were  all  on  the  pallet  on  the  floor.  It  was 
warm  weather,  and  father  and  mother  slept  in  the  bed.  A  man 
came  and  knocked  at  the  door.  Father  asked  who  was  there?  He 
said  "A  friend.  I  hear  you  keep  a  boarding  house  and  I  want  to 
get  something  to  eat." 

Father  told  him  to  come  in.  He  had  everything  but  hot 
coffee  —  so  he  went  to  work  and  got  the  coffee  ready.  Father 
talked  with  him.  The  man  was  well  dressed.  He  had  changed 
his  clothes,  he  said,  as  he  had  been  traveling,  and  it  was  dusty, 
and  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  camp  meeting.    This  is  what  he  said 


Amanda  Smith.  33 

to  my  father.  So  by  and  by  the  cotfee  was  ready,  and  father  set 
him  down  to  his  supper.  This  man  had  com.'  throu^'h  New  Mar- 
ket, and  Ben  Croiit  and  John  Hunt,  who  had  read  thi'  advertise- 
ment, saw  this  man  answered  the  description  and  h()i)in^'  to  catch 
my  father,  told  him  to  come  to  our  house  and  all  about  my  father 
havinp  a  boarding  house  and  all  about  the  camp  mretinp.  It  was 
white  people's  camp  meetingr,  but  colored  people  went  as  well;  it 
used  to  be  the  old  Baltimore  camp,  so  called,  and  so  that  was  the 
way  the  poor  man  knew  so  well  what  to  say.  He  had  come  away 
from  Louisiana,  and  had  been  two  weeks  lyings  by  in  the  day  time 
and  traveling  at  night,  but  had  got  so  hungry  he  ventured  into  this 
town,  and  these  men  were  looking  for  him,  but  he  did  not  know 
it.  When  they  saw  him  they  knew  he  answered  the  advertise- 
ment given  in  the  paper,  for  it  was  always  explicitly  given;  the 
color,  the  height  and  scars  on  any  part  of  his  body.  Well,  just 
about  the  time  the  man  got  through  with  his  supper,  some  one 
shouted,  "  Halloo!  "  Father  went  to  the  door.  There  were  six  or 
seven  white  men,  and  they  said,  "We  want  that  nigger  you  are 
harboring,  he  is  a  runaway  nigger." 

"I  am  not  harboring  anybody,"  father  said.  Then  they 
began  to  curse  and  swear  and  rushed  uponhim.  The  man  jumped 
and  ran  up  stairs.  My  mother  had  a  small  baby.  Of  course  she 
was  frightened  and  jumped  up,  and  they  were  beating  father  and 
tramping  all  over  us  children  on  the  floor.  We  were  screaming. 
There  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  an  old  fashioned  ten  plate 
stove.  There  was  no  fire  in  it,  of  course,  and  as  my  poor  fright- 
ened mother  ran  by  it  trying  to  defend  father,  she  caught  her 
wrapper  in  the  door,  just  as  a  man  cut  at  her  with  a  spring  dirk 
knife;  it  glanced  on  the  door  instead  of  on  mother.  I  have  thanked 
God  many  a  time  for  that  stove  door.  But  for  it  my  i)oor  mother 
would  have  been  killed  that  night.  The  poor  man  jumped  out  of 
the  window  up  stairs  and  ran  about  two  hundred  yards,  when  Ben 
Grout's  blood-hound  caught  him  and  held  him' till  they  came. 
When  they  found  the  man  was  gone,  they  left  oflF  beating  father 
and  went  for  the  man.  That  was  the  first  and  last  darkey  they 
ever  got  out  of  Sam  Berry's  clutches.  It  put  a  new  spirit  in  my 
mother.  She  cried  bitterly,  but  O,  when  it  was  all  over  how  she 
had  gathered  courage  and  strength.  The  good  white  people  all  over 
the  neighborhood  were  aroused,  but  he  was  so  close  to  the  Mary- 
land line  they  had  him  in  Baltimore  a  few  hours  from  then.  And, 
poor  fellow,  we  never  heard  of  him  afterwards. 


34  AUTOBIOGRAl'HY   OF 

Some  lime,  about  three  or  four  months  after  this,  along  in  the 
fall,  we  were  sleeping  upstairs.  One  night  about  twelve  o'clock  a 
knock  came  on  the  fence.  My  father  answered  and  went  down 
and  opened  the  door.  Mother  listened  and  heard  them  say  "  run- 
away nigger."  She  sprang  up,  and  as  she  ran  downstairs  she 
snatched  down  father's  cane,  which  had  a  small  dirk  in  it ;  she 
went  up  and  threw  open  the  door,  pushed  father  aside,  but  he  got 
hold  of  her,  but  O,  when  she  got  through  with  those  men  !  They 
fell  back  and  tried  to  apologize,  but  she  would  hear  nothing. 

"  I  can't  go  to  my  bed  and  sleep  at  night  without  being  hounded 
by  you  devils,"  she  said. 

Next  morning  father  wont  oft  to  work,  but  mother  dressed  her- 
self and  went  to  New  Market ;  as  she  went  she  told  everybody  she 
met  how  she  had  been  hounded  by  these  men.  Told  all  their 
names  right  out,  and  all  the  rich  respectable  people  cried  shame, 
and  backed  her  up.  Dr.  Bell,  the  leading  doctor  in  New  Market, 
who  himself  owned  three  or  four  slaves,  stood  by  my  mother  and 
told  her  to  speak  of  it  publicly;  so  she  stood  on  the  stepping  stone 
at  Dr.  Bell's,  right  in  front  of  the  largest  Tavern  in  the  place. 
There  were  a  lot  of  these  men  sitting  out  reading  the  news.  The 
morning  was  a  beautiful  Fall  morning,  and  she  opened  her  mouth 
and  for  one  hour  declared  unto  them  all  the  words  in  her  heart. 
Not  a  word  was  said  against  her,  but  as  the  spectators  and  others 
looked  on  and  listened  the  cry  of  "Shame!  Shame!"  could  be 
heard ;  and  the  men  skulked  away  here  and  there.  By  the  time 
she  got  through  there  was  not  one  to  be  seen  of  this  tribe.  That 
morning,  as  mother  went  to  New  Market,  this  same  blood-hound 
of  Ben  Grout's  was  lying  on  the  sidewalk,  and  as  mother  went  on 
a  lady  she  used  to  work  for,  a  Mrs.  Rutlidge,  saw  the  dog  and  saw 
mother  coming.  She  threw  up  her  hand  to  indicate  to  her  the 
dangerous  animal.  They  generally  kept  her  fastened  up,  but  this 
morning  she  was  not.  Mother  paid  no  attention  but  went  on. 
Mrs.  R.  clasped  her  hands  and  turned  her  back  expecting  every 
moment  to  hear  mother  scream  out.  She  looked  around  and 
mother  was  close  by  the  dog  and  stepped  right  over  her.  She  was 
so  frightened  she  said:  "O,  Mary,  how  did  you  get  by  that  dread- 
ful dog  of  Ben  Grout's?" 

Mother  was  wrothy,  and  said,  "I  didn't  stop  to  think  about 
that  dog,"  and  passed  on.  And  this  was  the  wonder  to  everybody 
around.     It  was  the  great  talk  of  the  day  all  about  the  country, 


Amanda  Smith.  35 

how  that  Sam  Berry's  wife  had  passed  Ben  Croat's  blood-hound 
and  was  not  hurt.  Then  they  began  to  say  she  must  have  had 
some  kind  of  a  charm,  and  they  were  shy  of  her.  Ever  after  that 
nobody,  bhick  or  white,  troubled  Sam  Berry's  wife.  It  was  no 
charm,  but  was  God's  wonderful  deliverance. 

About  two  years  or  more  after  this,  the  papers  were  full  of 
notices  of  a  very  valuable  slave  who  had  run  away.  A  heavy  re- 
ward was  otfered.  He  had  by  God's  mercy  got  to  u.s,  and  by  mov- 
ing the  poor  fellow  from  place  to  place  he  had  been  kept  safi'  for 
about  two  W3eks,  as  there  was  no  possible  chance  for  father  or  any 
one  to  get  him  away,  so  closely  were  we  watched.  My  father  was 
a  very  early  riser,  always  up  and  out  about  day  dawn.  Our  house 
stood  in  the  valley  between  two  hills,  so  that  the  moment  you 
struck  the  top  of  the  hill,  either  way  coming  or  going,  you  could 
see  every  move  around  our  house.  Just  on  the  opposite  side  of  tin- 
road  there  used  to  stand  two  large  chestnut  trees,  but  these  had 
been  blown  down  by  a  great  storm  some  time  before,  so  there  was 
no  screen  to  hide  the  house  from  full  view.  This  morning,  while 
out  in  the  yard  feeding  the  pigs,  he  saw  four  men  coming  on  horse- 
back. He  knew  they  were  strangers.  He  could  not  get  iu  the 
house  to  tell  mother,  so  he  called  to  her  and  said:  "Mother,  I  see 
four  men  coming;  do  the  best  you  can." 

She  must  act  in  a  moment  without  being  able  to  say  a  word 
more  to  father.  The  poor  slave  man  was  upstairs.  She  brought 
him  down  and  put  him  between  the  cords  and  straw  tick.  As  it 
was  early  in  the  morning  her  bed  was  not  made  up.  In  the  old- 
fashioned  houses  in  the  country  we  did  not  have  parlors.  The 
front  room  downstairs  was  often  used  as  the  bed-room.  My  little 
brother,  two  years  old,  slept  in  the  foot  of  the  bed.  The  men  rode 
up  and  spoke  to  my  father.  He  was  a  very  polite  man.  "Good 
morning,  gentlemen,  good  morning,  you  are  out  quite  early  this 
morning." 

"Yes,  we  are  looking  for  a  runawa}'  nigger."  Just  then  my 
father  recognized  the  high  sheriff  as  Mr.  E.,  who  was  formerly 
his  young  master.     "Why,  is  this  is  not  Mr.  E.  ?" 

"Yes,  Sam,  didn't  you  know  me?" 

My  father  made  a  wonderful  time  over  him,  laughed  heartily 
ind  said:   "What  in  the  world  is  up?" 

"Do  j'ou  know  anything  about  this  runaway?" 

Another  spoke  up  and  s;iid:   "We  have  a  search  warrant  and 


36  Autobiography  of 

we  mean  to  have  that  nigger.     We  want  to  know  if  you  have  him 
hid  away/' 

"Well,"  father  said,  "if  I  tell  you  I  have  not,  you  won't  believe 
me;  if  I  tell  you  I  have,  it  will  not  satisfy-you,  so  come  in  and  look." 

He  didn't  know  a  bit  what  mother  had  done,  but  he  knew  she 
had  a  head  on  her,  and  he  could  trust  her  in  an  emergency.  The 
men  hesitated  and  said:  "It  is  no  use  for  us  to  go  in,  if  you  will 
just  tell  us  if  you  have  him  or  know  anything  about  him."  And 
father  said:   "You  come  in,  gentlemen,  and  look." 

They  said,  "We  have  heard  your  wife  is  the  devil,"  and  then, 
speaking  very  nicely,  "You  know,  Sam,  we  don't  want  any  trouble 
with  her,  you  can  tell  us  just  as  well." 

"No,  gentlemen,  you  will  be  better  satisfied  if  you  go  in  and 
see  for  yourselves." 

Just  then  mother,  in  the  most  dignified  and  polite  manner, 
threw  open  the  door  and  said:  "Good  morning,  gentlemen,  come 
right  in."  So  they  laughed  heartily.  Two  dismounted  and  came 
in,  went  upstairs,  looked  all  about  while  one  looked  in  the  kitchen 
behind  the  chimney,  in  the  pot  closet;  and  my  mother  went  to  the 
bed  and  threw  back  the  cover  (she  knew  what  cover  to  throw  back, 
of  course,)  there  lay  my  little  brother.  She  said:  "Look  every- 
where, maybe  this  is  he?" 

"My!  Sam,"  one  of  them  said,  "here  is  a  darkey,  what  will 
you  take  for  him  ?  " 

"No,  you  have  not  money  enough  to  buy  him,"  father  said. 
Then  mother  said:  "Now,  gentlemen,  look  under  the  bed  as  well; 
you  haven't  examined  everything  here,"  and  they  laughed  and 
ran  out  and  said:  "Well,  Sam,  we  see  you  haven't  got  him." 

And  father  said:  "Well,  now  you  are  better  satisfied  after 
you  have  looked  yourselves."  So  he  didn't  tell  any  lie,  but  he  had 
the  darkey  hid  just  the  same! 

They  mounted  their  horses  and  went  off  full  tilt  to  York.  We 
children  were  sharp  enough  never  to  show  any  sign  of  alarm.  Poor 
me,  my  eyes  felt  like  young  moons.  The  man  was  safe.  After 
they  had  got  away,  mother  got  the  poor  fellow  out,  and  he  was  so 
weak  he  could  scarcely  stand.  He  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and 
cried  like  a  child.  Poor  fellow,  he  thought  he  was  gone,  and  but 
for  my  noble  mother  he  would  have  been.  We  soon  got  him  off  to 
Canada,  where,  I  trust,  he  lived  to  thank  and  praise  God,  who 
delivered  him  from  the  hand  of  his  masters. 


Amanda  Smith.  37 

I  can't  tell  just  how  lonp;  it  was  after  this  occurrence,  but  it 
was  in  harvest  time.  My  father  had  pot  home  from  work  and  was 
sitting  out  in  the  front  yard  restin<if  himself;  it  was  just  bejtrinninir 
to  get  dusk.  We  children  were  all  around  playing.  A  tall,  wc'.I- 
built  man  came  up  to  the  fence.  Father  said:  "Good  evening. 
my  friend."  The  poor  man  trembled,  and  said:  "I  don't  know  if 
you  are  a  friend  or  a  foe,  but  I  am  at  your  mercy." 

"Don't  fear,"  said  father,  "you  are  safe."  Then  he  sat  on 
the  fence  a  while  and  began  to  tell  his  sad  story.  His  feet  liad 
become  so  sore  he  could  not  travel.  He  had  come  away  from  New 
Orleans.  He  said  his  master  owned  a  hi rge  sugar  plantation  and 
he  was  one  of  the  head  molasses  boilers.  His  master  was  a  v«'ry 
passionate  man,  and  had  threatened  several  times  to  sell  him 
because  he  was  a  Christian  and  would  pray,  but  he  was  a  valuabh' 
man  and  so  he  held  on;  but  he  had  committed  a  great  offense  this 
time.  He  said  he  was  very  tired,  and,  something  he  never  did  in 
his  life  before,  he  fell  asleep  from  sheer  weariness,  and  so  burnt 
many  hogsheads  of  molasses,  and  this  so  enraged  his  master  that 
he  determined  to  sell  him.  He  had  a  wife  and  three  children,  if 
I  remember  correctly.  His  master  had  him  handcuffed  and  put 
in  the  cellar  under  the  house,  till  the  Georgia  traders  came.  When 
the  money  was  paid  they  generally  had  a  great  time  drinking  and 
gambling.  He  said  he  could  not  get  to  see  his  wife.  O,  how  he 
prayed  all  day  and  all  night.  His  young  mistress,  whom  he  had 
often  nursed  when  she  was  a  little  child  and  whom  he  used  often 
to  carry  about  from  place  to  place,  was  very  much  attached  to 
him,  as  was  frequently  the  case.  She  had  been  away  North  to 
schcK)l  and  was  a  Christian,  and  that  may  explain  what  followed. 
She  was  home  from  school  just  at  this  time,  and  like  Queen  Esther, 
when  pleading  for  her  people,  she  was  made  queen  just  in  time. 
The  evening  before  the  morning  he  was  to  be  taken  away  they 
were  having  a  good  jollification  time.  She  waited  till  they  were 
all  full  of  excitement,  and  being  a  great  favorite  of  her  father's 
she  managed  to  get  the  keys  of  the  cellar  and  went  in  and  unlocked 
his  handcuffs  and  made  him  swear  to  heron  his  knees  that  if  they 
•'ver  caught  him  he  would  never  betray  her.  Then  she  told  him 
which  way  to  go,  to  follow  the  North  Star,  which  most  of  the 
slaves  seemed  to  understand  and  travel  by.  She  gave  him  a  little 
money  and  something  to  eat.  He  prayed  for  God's  blessing  on 
her,  and  told  her  he  would  die  if  he  was  taken,  but  would  nev^r 


38  AUTOBIOGRAJPHY  OP 

betray  her;  so  he  would.  I  shall  never  forget  how  he  cried  as  he 
told  this  story  to  my  father.  He  said  he  had  traveled  for  three 
weeks,  and  after  his  food  was  all  gone  he  lived  on  berries,  black- 
berries were  just  ripe.  He  would  lie  by  in  the  day  and  travel  at 
night;  kept  in  the  woods,  never  traveled  in  day  time,  only  when  it 
would  rain.  We  soon  took  him  in  and  got  water  and  bathed  his 
feet.  Mother  got  him  a  good  supper,  O,  how  the  poor  man  ate; 
he  was  nearly  starved.  We  kept  him  about  two  weeks,  and  then 
succeeded  in  getting  him  otf  to  dear  old  Canada.  O,  how  much 
this  poor  slave  man  went  through  for  only  the  liberty  of  his  body, 
and  j'et  how  few  there  are  that  are  willing  to  make  any  sacrifice 
to  secure  the  freedom  of  souls  that  Jesus  so  freely  offers,  for  if  the 
Son  shall  make  you  free  then  are  ye  free,  indeed.  Thank  God, 
these  days  of  sadness  are  past,  never  to  be  repeated,  I  trust.  The 
poor  man,  I  suppose,  never  heard  of  his  wife  'and  children,  for  this 
was  years  before  the  war  and  it  was  not  likely  they  ever  met  on 
earth  again,  but  I  trust  they  will  meet  beyond  the  river  where  the 
surges  cease  to  roll. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

MOVING    FKOM    LOWF/s    FARM. —  MARRIAGE. —  CONVERSION. 

After  twt'lvo  years  on  John  Lowe's  farm,  my  father  hail  an 
olTer  from  a  man  named  John  Bear;  it  was  between  five  and  six 
miles  from  where  we  were.  It  was  a  small  farm  and  my  father 
had  a  better  chance  to  help  himself.  He  used  to  work  a  good  deal 
in  Strausburg  then.  Dr.  Bull  and  his  brother,  Rev.  Wesley  Bull, 
lived  in  Strausburg.  My  oldest  brother  lived  with  the  doctor  a 
long  time  and  took  care  of  his  horses.  The  doctor  married  a  Miss 
Jane  Berry,  daughter  of  old  Colonel  Berry,  of  Baltimore.  They 
first  settled  in  Strausburg.  I  lived  with  them  some  time.  How 
well  I  remember  the  old  Colonel;  he  used  to  come  to  visit  them, 
and  was  very  kind  to  me.  Would  often  speak  to  me  about  my 
soul's  interest,  but  I  was  young  and  did  not  pay  much  attention 
at  the  time,  but  I  never  forgot  it.  After  a  time  Dr.  Bull  moved  to 
Baltimore,  and  Dr.  Turner,  who  married  Miss  Julia  Berry,  Mrs. 
Bull's  sister,  lived  in  Strausburg,  then  I  lived  with  Dr.  Turner. 
How  well  I  remember  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Turner.  They  were  very  fond 
of  Maryland  biscuit,  and  though  I  was  young,  I  had  the  reputation 
of  making  the  best  Maryland  biscuit  and  frying  the  nicest  chicken 
of  anyone  around  there,  and  the  doctor  used  to  say  "Amanda  can 
beat  them  all  making  Maryland  biscuit  and  frying  chicken."  My! 
how  it  did  please  me!  Somehow  it  is  very  encouraging  to  servants 
to  tell  them  once  in  a  while  that  they  do  things  nicely;  it  did  me 
good.  I  would  almost  kill  myself  to  please  them,  and  Doctor 
Turner's  mother,  dear-  Mrs.  Flynn,  what  a  good  woman  she  was! 
She  gave  me  the  first  Testament  I  ever  had  and  u.sed  to  come  into 
the  kitchen  and  read  to  me  sometimes.  She  came  several  times 
on  a  visit  to  see  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Turner.  After  a  time  Dr.  Turn»'r 
moved  back  to  Baltimore  again,  I  went  with  them.  It  was  my 
first  time  in  Baltimore.  We  got  in  at  night  and  I  remember  how 
1  had  never  seen  fine  lights  glittering  in  drug  stores  before,  and  as 

(39) 


40  Autobiography  op 

we  drove  along  I  thought  I  never  saw  such  pretty  houses  in  my 
life.  O,  I  was  thoroughly  captivated.  We  had  a  long  way  to 
drive  from  the  station  then.  Col.  Berry  lived  at  Poplar  Grove, 
just  a  little  out  of  Baltimore.  Dear  old  Mrs.  Berry,  Mrs.  Turner 
and  the  Doctor,  and  the  old  Colonel  met  us  at  the  station.  How 
well  I  remember  the  old  home  in  the  grove;  it  was  the  fall  of  the 
year;  it  was  not  late,  but  the  fires  were  lighted  and  all  was  so 
cheery.  T  remember  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hurst,  the  three  children,  Miss 
Petty  and  Missie,  and  little  Berry  and  Mr.  Somerfield,  Miss  Emily 
and  Miss  Eliza.  Dr.  Turner  took  a  house  in  town  on  the  corner  of 
Franklin  and  Pearl  streets,  Baltimore.  I  remained  till  Christmas, 
then  mj'  mother  came  to  see  me  and  I  went  home  with  her.  Some 
time  after  that  Dr.  Waugh  moved  to  Strausburg;  Bishop  Waugh's 
ron.  I  remember  the  Bishop  and  Mrs.  Waugh  well.  I  always 
admired  Mrs.  Dr.  Waugh  so  much;  she  never  seemed  to  be  cross 
about  anything,  nor  at  any  time.  The  Doctor,  too,  was  very 
gentle  and  quiet,  but  Mrs.  Bishop  was  not  so  much  so.  though  she 
was  very  nice.  Mrs.  Doctor  did  not  like  Strausburg.  so  they  did 
not  stay  very  long,  but  returned  to  Baltimore  again.  In  the 
course  of  time  Rev.  Isaac  Collis  was  appointed  to  the  First  Metho- 
dist Church,  and  I  went  to  live  with  them  a  few  months.  My 
father  used  to  do  all  their  gardening.  When  their  time  was  out 
they  moved  away.  O,  what  changes  have  been  since  then;  the 
most  of  these  have  gone  to  their  reward,  but  some  of  their  children 
and  grandchildren  still  live.  Dear  Mrs.  Turner's  daughter,  Mrs. 
Wilson  now,  whose  husband  is  pastor  of  Wesle}'  Chapel  in  Waslv 
ington,  is  her  mother  right  over  again  in  kindness  and  amiableness 
of  disposition.  Mr.  Wilson,  her  husband,  is  a  noble  man  of  God. 
I  shall  never  forget  their  kindness  to  me  last  October,  the  time  of 
the  great  Ecumenical  conference.  Mrs  Burres  asked  me  to  lead 
the  holiness  meeting  that  is  held  at  the  Wesley  chapel  every 
Wednesday  at  11  o'clock,  and  when  the  meeting  closed  who 
should  come  and  speak  to  me  but  dear  Mrs.  Wilson  and  her  hus- 
band. Then  she  told  me  who  she  was,  Mrs.  Turner's  daughter. 
She  was  married  and  had  two  lovely  children.  Mr.  Wilson  and 
she  invited  me  to  their  home  to  lunch  with  them.  Well,  I  thought 
that  is  a  big  thing  to  be  invited  to  lunch,  for  I  had  walked  about 
for  two  days  and  there  was  not  a  restaurant  in  the  great  capital  of 
Washington  where  a  colored  Christian  lady  or  gentleman  could  go 
and  sit  down  and  get  a  cup  of  tea  or  a  dinner;  and  now  to  be 


Amanda  Smith.  41 

invited  here  to  lunch,  I  tliouf,Mil  wluil  d(M'S  it  rt'ully  mt'un?  Of 
course  I  accepted  the  irivitiition.  I  had  thou^'ht  Wasliin^^ton  was 
like  Boston  or  London.  I  had  no  such  ditTiculty  tht-re.  Thank 
God  for  real,  practical,  inri^'ht,  outright,  downright  common 
sense;  that  is  all  I  think  people  need  on  the  color  lint*.  May  thf 
Lord  give  it  to  us  quick.  Amen.  Dear  Mr.  anil  Mrs.  WiLson 
lacked  nothing  in  that  line.  God  bless  them!  When  I  went  I  was 
shown  into  the  parlor?  my  wraps  were  taken,  and  in  a  little  while 
Mrs.  Wilson  came  in.  We  had  a  pleasant  little  chat,  then  came 
her  sister;  I  was  introduced.  She  was  so  nice,  then  the  dear  little 
children.  In  a  little  while  then  Mr.  Wilson  came  with  a  gentle- 
man from  the  conference,  then  a  lady  and  gentleman  who  were  their 
guests.  I  was  introduced  to  all  as  easily  and  naturally  and  common 
sense-like  as  possible.  Then  we  went  to  lunch.  The  little  girl  took 
me  by  the  hand  and  she  and  I  led  the  way.  The  little  thing  was 
so  nice  she  said,  "  Are  you  going  to  sit  at  the  table  with  me?" 

"Would  you  like  me  to  do  so?  " 

"Yes." 

I  don't  suppose  this  was  an  everyday  occurrence;  it  is  not 
necessary  that  it  should  be  so,  but  when  occasions  do  come,  all 
that  is  really  needed  is  simple,  real,  manly,  broad,  Christian  com- 
mon sense.  Mr.  Wilson  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table,  I  at  the 
riffht,  and  the  dear  little  girl  next,  and  her  little  brother  next  and 
the  others  in  order.  We  had  an  elegant  lunch,  and  a  very  pleas- 
ant and  profitable  time  together.  We  talked  about  India,  Africa, 
Paris,  Rome,  Egypt,  Scotland,  Ireland,  and  the  Isles  of  the  Sea. 
and  ended,  I  believe,  with  the  Hero  of  the  Congo,  Bishop  Taylor. 
We  went  upstairs,  and  after  a  little  further  chat  Mr.  Wilson 
asked  me  to  sing  and  pray  with  them.  I  sang  several  songs.  One 
was: —  "  The  very  same  Jesus." 

"  The  very  same  Jesus, 
The  very  same  Jesus, 
O  praise  His  name; 
He  is  just  the  same, 
The  very  same  Jesus." 
The  other  one  was: — 

"God  is  able  to  deliver  thee 
Though  by  sin  oppressed; 
Go  to  Him  for  rest. 
Our  God  is  able  to  deliver  thee." 


42  Autobiography  of 

The  Lord  blest  the  singing  to  them,  and  our  hearts  were 
melted,  then  we  knelt  to  pray.  O,  how  the  Lord  helped  me  to 
pray.  My  own  heart  was  overflowing  with  gratitude  for  the  kind- 
ness shown  me,  for  I  recognized  the  hand  of  God  in  it  all,  and  so 
praised  Him.     Amen. 

In  September,  1854,  I  was  married  to  my  first  husband,  C, 
Devine,  by  the  Rev.  Nicholas  Pleasant,  a  Baptist  minister  in 
Columbia.  My  father  did  not  object  to  my  marrying,  only  on  the 
ground  that  I  was  rather  young,  and  I  thought  so,  too,  but  still, 
like  so  many  young  people,  I  said,  "  But  well,  I  know  I  can  get 
on."  Then  there  was  the  fellow  saying  all  the  nice  things  he 
would  do  for  me,  and  I  believed  it  all,  of  course.  But  it  was  not 
long  before  I  wished  I  had  not  believed  half  he  said,  though  in 
many  things  he  was  good.  He  believed  in  religion  for  his  moth- 
er's sake.  She  was  a  good  woman,  he  said,  though  I  never  saw 
her.  He  had  two  sisters  who  lived  in  Columbia.  He  could  talk 
3n  the  subject  of  religion  very  sensibly  at  times;  but  when  strong 
drink  would  get  the  better  of  him,  which  I  am  very  sorry  to  say 
was  quite  often,  then  he  was  very  profane  and  unreasonable.  We 
had  two  children.  The  first  died;  the  other,  my  daughter  Maze, 
is  now  married  and  living  in  Baltimore. 

In  1855  I  was  very  ill.  Everything  was  done  for  me  that 
could  be  done.  My  father  lived  in  Wrightsville,  Pa.,  and  was 
very  anxious  about  my  soul.     But  I  did  not  feel  a  bit  concerned. 

I  wanted  to  be  let  alone.  How  I  wished  that  no  one  would 
speak  to  me.  One  day  my  father  said  to  me,  "Amanda,  my 
child,  you  know  the  doctors  say  you  must  die;  they  can  do  no 
more  for  you,  and  now  my  child  you  must  pray." 

O,  I  did  not  want  to  pray,  I  was  so  tired  I  wanted  to  sleep. 
The  doctors  said  they  must  keep  me  aroused.  In  the  afternoon  of 
the  next  day  after  the  doctor  had  given  me  up,  I  fell  asleep  about 
two  o'clock,  or  I  seemed  to  go  into  a  kind  of  trance  or  vision,  and 
I  saw  on  the  foot  of  my  bed  a  most  beautiful  angel.  It  stood  on 
one  foot,  with  wings  spread,  looking  me  in  the  face  and  motioning 
me  with  the  hand;  it  said  "Go  back,"  three  times,  "Gk)  back,  Go 
back,  Go  back." 

Then,  it  seemed,  T  went  to  a  great  Camp  Meeting  and  there 
seemed  to  be  thousands  of  people,  and  I  was  to  preach  and  the 
platform  I  had  to  stand  on  was  up  high  above  the  people.  It 
seemed  it  was  erected  between  two  trees,  but  near  the  tops.     How 


Amanda  Smitu.  43 

I  ^•'ot  on  it  I  don't  know,  but  I  was  on  this  platform  with  a  larpo 
Bible  opened  and  I  was  preaching  from  these  words: — "  And  I  if 
I  be  lifted  up  will  draw  all  men  unto  me."  (),  how  I  pn'achod, 
and  the  people  were  slain  right  and  left.  I  sui)p()se  I  was  in  this 
vision  about  two  hours.  When  I  came  out  of  it  I  was  d»'cid«'dly 
better.  When  the  doctor  called  in  and  looked  at  me  he  was 
astonished,  but  so  glad.  In  a  few  days  I  was  able  to  sit  up,  and 
in  about  a  week  or  ten  days  to  walk  about.  Then  I  made  up  my 
mind  to  pray  and  lead  a  Christian  life.  I  thought  God  had 
spared  me  for  a  purpose,  so  I  meant  to  be  converted,  but  lin  my 
own  way  quietly.  I  thought  if  I  was  really  sincere  it  would  be 
all  right. 

I  cannot  remember  the  time  from  my  earliest  childhood 
that  I  did  not  want  to  be  a  Christian,  and  would  often  pray 
alone.  Sometimes  I  would  kneel  in  the  fence  corner  when  I  went 
for  the  cows  to  bring  them  home.  Sometim«'S  upstairs,  or 
wherever  I  could  be  aVone,.  I  had  planned  just  about  how 
I  was  going  to  be  converted.  I  had  a  strong  will  and  was  full  of 
nride.  When  I  said  I  would  not  do  anything,  I  was  proud  of  my 
word,  and  people  would  say,  "Well,  you  know  if  Amanda  says 
she  won't  do  anything,  you  might  as  well  try  to  move  the  ever- 
lasting hills."  And  that  inflated  me  and  I  thought,  "O,  how 
nice  to  have  a  reputation  like  that."  I  would  stick  to  it;  I  would 
not  give  in;  my  pride  held  me,     I  went  on  in  this  course  till  1856. 

In  a  watch  m«'eting  one  night  at  the  Baptist  Church  in  Colum- 
bia, Pennsylvania,  a  revival  started.  I  lived  with  Mrs.  Morris, 
not  far  away,  and  I  could  hear  the  singing,  but  I  did  not  mean  to 
go  forward  to  the  altar  to  pray:  I  didn't  believe  in  making  a  great 
noise.  I  said,  "If  you  are  sincere  the  Lord  will  bless  you  any- 
where, and  I  don't  mean  to  ever  go  forward  to  the  altar;  that  I 
will  never  do."  So  I  prayed  and  struggled  day  after  day,  week 
after  week,  trying  to  find  light  and  peace,  but  I  constantly  came 
up  against  my  will.  (Jod  showed  me  I  was  a  dreadful  sinner,  but 
still  I  wanted  to  have  my  own  way  about  it.  I  said,  "  I  am  not  so 
bad  as  Bob  Loney,  Meil  Snievely,  and  a  lot  of  others.  I  am  not 
like  them,  I  have  always  lived  in  first-class  families  and  have 
always  kept  company  with  first-class  servant  girls,  and  I  don't 
need  to  go  there  and  pray  like  those  people  do."  All  this  went  on 
in  my  mind. 

At   last  one   night  they  were  singing  so  beautifully  in    thi:? 


44  Autobiography  op 

Church,  I  felt  drawn  to  go  in,  and  went  and  sat  away  back  o.t 
the  door  and  they  wore  inviting  persons  forward  for  prayers. 
O,  so  many  of  them  were  going,  the  altar  was  filled  in  a  little 
while,  and  though  I  went  in  with  no  intention  of  going  myself,  as 
I  sat  there  all  at  once,  —  I  can't  tell  how,  —  I  don't  know  how,  —  I 
never  did  know  how,  but  when  I  found  myself  I  was  down  the 
aisle  and  half  way  up  to  the  altar.  All  at  once  it  came  to  me, 
"There,  now,  you  have  always  said  you  would  never  go  forward 
to  an  altar,  and  there  you  are  going.  " 

I  thought  I  would  turn  around  and  go  back,  but  as  I  went  to 
turn  facing  all  the  congregation,  it  was  so  far  to  go  back,  so  I 
rushed  forward  to  the  altar,  threw  myself  down  and  began  to  pray 
with  all  my  might:  "  O,  Lord,  have  mercy  on  me!  O,  Lord,  have 
mercy  on  me!  O,  Lord,  save  me,  "  I  shouted  at  the  top  of  my 
voice,  till  I  was  hoarse.  Finally  I  quieted  down.  There  came  a 
stillness  over  me  so  quiet.  1  didn't  understand  it.  The  meeting 
closed.     I  went  home. 

If  I  had  known  how  to  exercise  faith,  I  would  have  found 
peace  that  night,  but  they  did  not  instruct  us  intelligently,  so  I 
was  left  in  the  dark.  A  few  days  after  this  I  took  a  service  place 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Columbia,  with  a  Quaker  family 
named  Robert  Mifflins.  This  was  in  January.  I  prayed  inces- 
santly, night  and  day,  for  light  and  peace. 

After  I  had  got  out  to  Mr.  Mifflins',  I  began  to  plan  for  my 
spring  suit;  I  meant  to  be  converted,  though  I  had  not  given  up  at 
all,  but  I  began  to  save  my  money  up  now.  There  were  some 
pretty  styles,  and  I  liked  them.  A  white  straw  bonnet,  with  very 
pretty,  broad  pink  tie-strings;  pink  or  white  muslin  dress,  tucked 
to  the  waist;  black  silk  mantilla;  and  light  gaiter  boots,  with 
black  tips;  I  had  it  all  picked  out  in  my  mind,  my  nice  spring  and 
summer  suit.  I  can  see  the  little  box  now  where  I  had  put  my 
money,  saving  up  for  this  special  purpose.  Then  I  would  pray; 
O,  how  I  prayed,  fasted  and  prayed,  read  my  Bible  and  prayed, 
praj'ed  to  the  moon,  prayed  to  the  sun,  prayed  to  the  stars.  I  was 
so  ignorant.  O,  I  wonder  how  God  ever  did  save  me,  anyhow. 
The  Devil  told  me  I  was  such  a  sinner  God  would  not  convert  me. 
When  I  would  kneel  down  to  pray  at  night,  he  would  say,  "You 
had  better  give  it  up;  God  won't  hear  j^ou,  you  are  such  a  sinner.  " 

Then  I  thought  if  I  could  only  think  of  somebody  that  had 
not  sinned,  and  my  idea  of  great  sin  was  disobedience,  and  I 


Amanda  Smith.  45 

tlumghl  if  1  could  only  think  of  somebody  lliaL  luid  always  been 
obt'ditMit.  I  never  thought  about  Jesus  in  that  sense,  and  yet  I 
was  looking  to  Him  for  pardon  and  salvation. 

All  at  once  it  came  to  me,  ""Why,  the  sun  has  always  obeyed 
God.  and  kept  its  place  in  the  heavens,  and  the  motjn  and  stars 
have  always  obeyed  God,  and  kept  their  place  in  the  heavens,  the 
wind  has  always  obeyed  God,  they  all  have  obeyed." 

So  I  began,  "  O,  Sun,  you  never  sinned  like  me,  you  have 
always  obeyed  God  and  kept  your  place  in  the  heavens;  tell  Jesus 
I  am  a  poor  sinner. "  Then  when  I  would  see  the  trees  move  by  the 
wind,  I  would  say,  '*  O,  Wind,  you  never  sinned  like  me,  you  have 
always  obeyed  God,  and  blown  at  His  command;  tell  Jesus  I  am  a 
poor  sinner." 

When  I  set  my  people  down  to  tea  in  the  house  I  would  slip 
out  and  get  under  the  trees  in  the  yard  and  look  up  to  the  moon 
and  stars  and  pray,  "  O,  Moon  and  Stars,  you  never  sinned  like  me, 
you  have  always  obeyed  God,  and  kept  your  place  in  the  heavens; 
tell  Jesus  I  am  a  poor  sinner.'"  One  day  while  I  was  praying  I  got 
desperate,  and  here  came  my  spring  suit  up  constantly  before  me, 
so  I  told  the  Lord  if  he  would  take  away  the  burden  that  was  on 
my  heart  that  I  w^ould  never  get  one  of  those  things.  I  wouldn't 
get  the  bonnet,  I  wouldn't  get  the  dress,  I  wouldn't  get  the  man- 
tilla, I  wouldn't  get  the  shoes.  O,  I  wanted  relief  from  the  burden 
and  then  all  at  once  there  came  a  quiet  peace  in  m}'  heart,  and 
that  suit  never  came  before  me  again;  but  still  there  was  darkner,s 
in  my  soul.  On  Tuesday,  the  17th  day  of  March,  1856,  I  was  sit- 
ting in  the  kitchen  by  my  ironing  table,  thinking  it  all  over.  The 
Devil  seemed  to  say  to  me  (I  know  now  it  was  he),  "You  have 
prayed  to  be  converted." 
I  said,  "Yes." 
"You  have  been  sincere." 
"Yes." 

"  You  have  been  in  earnest." 
"Yes." 

"You  have  read  your  Bible,  and  you  have  fasted,  and  you 
really  want  to  be  converted." 

"Yes,  Lord,  Thou  knowest  it;  Thou  knowest  my  heart,  I 
really  want  to  be  converted." 

Then  Satan  said,  "AVell,  if  God  were  going  to  convert  you  He 
would  have  done  it  long  ago;  He  does  His  work  quick,  and  with 
all  your  sincerity  God  has  not  converted  you." 


46  Autobiography  of 

"Yes,  that  is  so." 

**  You  might  as  well  give  it  up,  then,"  said  he,  "  it  is  no  use, 
He  won't  hear  you  " 

"Well,  I  guess  I  will  just  give  it  up.  I  suppose  I  will  be 
damned  and  I  might  as  well  submit  to  my  fate."  Just  then  a 
voice  whispered  to  me  clearly,  and  said,  "  Pray  once  more."  And 
in  an  instant  I  said,  "I  will."  Then  another  voice  seemed  like  a 
person  speaking  to  me,  and  it  said,  "  Don't  you  do  it." 

"Yes,  I  will." 

And  when  I  said,  "Yes,  I  will,"  it  seeemed  to  me  the  empha- 
sis was  on  the  "will,"  and  I  felt  it  from  the  crown  of  my  head 
clear  through  me,  "  I  WILL,"  and  I  got  on  my  feet  and  said,  "  I 
will  pray  once  more,  and  if  there  is  any  such  thing  as  salvation,  I 
am  determined  to  have  it  this  afternoon  or  die." 

I  got  up,  put  the  kettle  on,  set  the  table  and  went  into  the 
cellar  and  got  on  my  knees  to  pray  and  die,  for  I  thought  I  had 
made  a  vow  to  God  and  that  He  would  certainly  kill  me,  and  I 
didn't  care,  I  was  so  miserable,  and  I 'was  just  at  the  verge  of  des- 
peration. I  had  put  everything  on  the  table  but  the  bread  and 
butter,  and  I  said,  "  If  any  one  calls  me  I  won't  get  up,  and  if  the 
bread  and  butter  is  all  that  is  to  go  on  the  table.  Miss  Sue  (the 
daughter)  can  finish  the  supper,  and  that  will  save  them  calling 
for  me,  and  when  they  come  down  cellar  after  it  they  will  find  me 
dead!" 

I  set  the  tea  pot  on  the  table,  put  the  tea  cady  down  by  it,  so 
that  everything  would  be  ready,  and  I  was  going  to  die;  and  O, 
Hallelujah,  what  a  dying  that  was!  T  went  down  into  the  cellar 
and  got  on  my  knees,  as  I  had  done  so  many  times  before,  and  I 
began  my  prayer.  "O  Lord,  have  mercy  on  my  soul,  I  don't 
know  how  else  to  pray."  A  voice  said  to  me,  "  That  is  just  what 
you  said  before." 

"O,  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt  only  please  to  have  mercy  on  my  soul 
I  will  serve  Thee  the  longest  day  I  live." 

The  Devil  said,  "You  might  just  as  well  stop,  you  said  that 
before." 

"O,  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt  only  convert  my  soul  and  make  me 
truly  sensible  of  it,  for  I  want  to  know  surely  that  I  am  converted, 
I  will  serve  Thee  the  longest  day  I  live." 

"Yes,"  the  Devil  says,  "you  said  that  before  and  God  har>  not 
done  it,  and  you  might  as  well  stop." 


Amanda  Smith.  47 

O,  what  a  conllict.  How  the  darkness  srcmrd  to  gather 
around  me,  and  in  my  desperation  I  looked  up  and  said,  '*  (),  Lord, 
I  have  come  down  here  to  die,  and  I  must  have  salvation  this 
afternoon  or  death.  If  you  send  me  to  hell  I  will  go,  but  convert 
my  soul."  Then  I  looked  up  and  said,  "  O,  Lord,  if  thou  wilt  only 
please  to  help  me  if  ever  I  backslide  don't  ever  let  me  see  thy  face 
in  peace."  And  I  waited,  and  1  did  not  hear  the  old  suggestion 
that  had  been  following  me,  "That  is  just  what  30U  said  before," 
so  I  said  it  again,  "O,  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt  only  please  to  convert 
my  soul  and  make  me  truly  sensible  of  it,  if  I  backslide  don't  ever 
let  me  see  Thy  face  in  peace." 

I  prayed  the  third  time,  using  these  same  words.  Then  some- 
how I  seemed  to  get  to  the  end  of  everything.  I  did  not  know 
what  else  to  say  or  do.  Then  in  my  desperation  I  looked  up  and 
said,  "O,  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt  help  me  I  will  believe  Thee,"  and  in 
the  act  of  telling  God  I  would,  I  did.  O,  the  peace  and  joy  that 
flooded  my  soul!  The  burden  rolled  away;  1  felt  it  when  it  left 
me,  and  a  flood  of  light  and  joy  swept  through  my  soul  such  as  I 
had  never  known  before.  I  saici,  "Why,  Lord,  I  do  believe  this  is 
just  what  I  have  been  asking  for,"  and  down  came  another  flood 
of  light  and  peace.  And  I  said  again,  "Why,  Lord,  I  do  believe 
this  is  what  I  have  asked  Thee  for."  Then  I  sprang  to  my  feet, 
all  around  was  light,  I  was  new.  I  looked  at  my  hands,  they 
looked  new;  I  took  hold  of  myself  and  said,  "Why,  I  am  new,  I 
am  new  all  over."  I  clapped  my  hands;  I  ran  up  out  of  the  cellar, 
I  walked  up  and  down  the  kitchen  floor.  Praise  the  Lord!  There 
seemed  to  be  a  halo  of  light  all  over  me;  the  change  was  so  real 
and  so  thorough  that  I  have  often  said  that  if  I  had  been  as  black 
as  ink  or  as  green  as  grass  or  as  white  as  snow,  I  would  not  have 
been  frightened.  I  went  into  the  dining  room;  we  had  a  large 
mirror  that  went  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling,  and  I  went  and 
looked  in  it  to  see  if  anything  had  transpired  in  my  color,  because 
there  was  something  wonderful  had  tak<'n  i)lace  inside  of  me,  and 
it  really  seemed  to  me  it  was  outside  too,  and  as  1  k)oked  in  the 
glass  I  cried  out,  "Hallelujah,  I  have  got  religion;  glory  to  God,  I 
have  got  religion!"'  I  was  wild  with  delight  and  joy;  it  seemed 
to  me  as  if  I  would  split!  I  went  out  into  the  kitchen  and  I 
thought  what  will  I  do,  I  have  got  to  wait  till  Sunday  before  I  can 
tell  anybody.  This  was  on  Tuesday;  Sunday  was  my  day  in  town, 
so  I  began  to  count  the  days,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday, 


48  Autobiography  of 

Friday,  Saturday,  Sunday.  O,  it  seemed  to  me  the  days  were 
weeks  long.  My  I  can  I  possibly  stand  it  till  Sunday?  I  must  tell 
somebody,  and  as  I  passed  by  the  ironing  table  it  seemed  as  if  it 
had  a  halo  of  light  all  around  it,  and  I  ran  up  to  the  table  and 
smote  it  with  my  hand  and  shouted,  "Glory  to  God,  I  have  got 
religion!"  The  Lord  kept  me  level-headed  and  didn't  make  me 
so  excited  I  didn't  know  what  I  was  doing.  Mrs.  Mifflin  was  very 
delicate;  she  had  asthma,  and  I  knew  if  I  said  anything  to  excite 
her  it  might  kill  her,  and  the  Lord  kept  me  so  I  didn't  make  any 
noise  to  excite  her  at  all.  I  didn't  tell  her;  didn't  feel  led  to  tell 
her.  There  was  no  one  in  the  house  at  the  time,  not  a  soul.  She 
was  on  the  front  veranda  and  I  had  it  all  to  myself  in  the  kitchen. 
O,  what  a  day!  I  never  shall  forget  it;  it  was  a  day  of  joy  and 
gladness  to  my  soul.  After  I  had  been  converted  about  a  week  I 
was  very  happy.  One  morning  it  seemed  to  me  I  didn't  know  what 
to  do  with  myself,  I  was  so  happy.     I  was  singing  an  old  hymn, — 

"  O  how  happy  are  they,  who  their  Saviour  obey. 
And  have  laid  up  their  treasures  above; 
Tongue  can  never  express  the  sweet  comfort  and  peace, 
Of  a  soul  in  its  earliest  love." 

When  I  got  to  the  verse: — 

"When  my  heart,  it  believed,  what  a  joy  I  received, 
What  a  heaven  in  Jesus'  name; 
'Twas  a  heaven  below,  my  Redeemer  to  know, 

And  the  angels  could  do  nothing  more 
Than  to  fall  at  His  feet,  and  the  story  repeat. 
And  the  Lover  of  sinners  adore." 

O,  how  my  soul  was  filled.  Just  then  the  enemy  whispered 
to  me,  "There,  you  are  singing  just  as  if  you  had  religion." 

"Well,  I  have.  I  asked  the  Lord  to  convert  me  and  He  has 
done  it." 

"  How  do  you  know?  " 

"Well  I  know  He  did  it,  because  it  was  just  what  I  asked  the 
Lord  to  do,  and  He  did,  and  I  know  He  did,  for  I  never  felt  as  I  do 
now,  and  I  know  I  am  converted." 

"  You  have  a  great  blessing,"  the  Devil  said,  "  But  how  do  you 
know  that  is  conversion?" 

"Well,"  I  said,  "That  is  what  I  asked  the  Lord  to  do  and  I 
believe  He  did  it." 


Amanda  Smith.  40 

•*  You  know,  you  don't  want  to  be  a  hypocrite?  " 

"No,  and  I  will  not  be,  either." 

"  But  you  have  no  evidence." 

♦*  Evidence,  evidence,  what  is  that?  "  Then  I  thought,  I  won- 
der if  that  is  not  what  the  old  people  used  to  call  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit.  "Well,"  I  said,  "I  won't  sing,  I  won't  pray  until  I 
get  the  witness."  So  I  began  and  I  held  this  point;  God  helped 
me  to  hold  this  point.  I  said,  "Lord  I  believe  Thou  hast  con- 
verted my  soul,  but  the  Devil  says  I  have  no  evidence.  Now  Lord 
give  me  the  evidence,"  and  I  prayed  a  whole  week.  Every  now 
and  then  the  joy  would  spring  up  in  my  heart,  the  burden  was  all 
gone,  I  had  no  sadness,  I  could  not  cry  as  I  had  before,  and  I  did 
not  understand  it  and  so  I  kept  on  pleading,  "Lord,  I  believe 
Thou  hast  converted  me,  but  give  me  the  evidence,  so  clear  and 
definite  that  the  Devil  will  never  trouble  me  on  that  line  again." 

Praise  the  Lord,  He  did,  and  though  I  have  passed  through 
many  sorrows,  many  trials,  Satan  has  buffeted  me,  but  never  from 
that  day  have  I  had  a  question  in  regard  to  my  conversion.  God 
helped  me  and  He  settled  it  once  for  all. 

This  witness  of  God's  spirit  to  my  conversion  has  been  what 
has  held  me  amid  all  the  storms  of  temptation  and  trial  that  I 
have  passed  through.  O  what  an  anchor  it  has  been  at  time  of 
storm.  Hallelujah,  for  the  Lord  God  Omnipotent  reigneth.  Ye 
shall  know  if  ye  follow  on  to  know  the  Lord.     Amen.     Amen. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HOW    I    BOUGHT    MY    SISTER    FRANCES   AND    HOW   THE    LORD    PAID 
THE   DEBT. 

It  was  in  September,  1862.  The  Union  soldiers  were  stationed 
all  along  the  line,  from  Havre  de  Gras  and  Monkton,  Md.  My 
aunt,  my  mother's  sister,  lived  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Here- 
ford, on  the  old  homestead,  where  my  grandmother  lived  and  died. 
After  the  death  of  my  mother  there  were  six  of  us  children  at 
home  with  father.  My  aunt,  who  had  been  married  about  two 
years,  wanted  my  father  to  let  one  of  my  sisters  go  with  her  to 
Maryland.  She  had  but  one  child  of  her  own  at  that  time,  and 
she  wanted  my  sister  to  be  company  for  her  little  child,  and  to 
look  after  him,  as  she  worked  out  by  the  day  very  often.  So  my 
father  gave  her  my  sister  Frances,  who  was  then  about  ten  years 
old.  It  was  not  very  safe  for  colored  people  to  pass  up  and  down, 
but  sometimes  they  could  do  it  without  being  molested  at  all.  My 
aunt  used  to  come  back  and  forth  once  a  year  to  the  camp  meet- 
ing, as  many  of  the  colored  people,  round  about  did.  The  camp 
meeting  was  then  called  the  old  Baltimore  Camp.  It  was  held  on 
Lowe's  camp-ground.  My  sister  was  very  anxious  to  go  with  my 
aunt.  She  promised  to  take  very  good  care  of  her,  so  father  was 
quite  willing  to  have  her  go.  She  had  been  there  about  three 
years,  I  think;  my  aunt  then  had  two  children;  and  my  sister  took 
care  of  them  while  she  would  be  away  at  work  every  day;  of 
course  things  didn't  always  go  on  with  children  as  they  should, 
and  then  my  aunt  was  very  severe  on  Frances;  several  times  she 
whipped  her  very  severely,  so  that  the  neighbors  interfered,  and 
that  made  unpleasant  feelings  between  the  neighbors  and  my 
aunt.  Word  came  to  my  father  about  it,  but  he  could  not  go  very 
well,  nor  did  any  of  the  rest  feel  that  we  could  go;  there  was 
so  much  excitement  about  the  war  we  did  not  like  to  risk  it 

(50) 


Amanda  Smith,  51 

After  the  war  hud  begun,  these  soldiers  were  stationed,  as  I  have 
said,  and  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that  1  would  risk  it,  and  go  and 
see  about  my  sister.  Prior  to  this  my  aunt  had  written  father  that 
Frances  had  got  very  unruly,  and  when  she  would  whip  her  she 
would  run  away,  and  that  she  had  gone  o(f  somewhere,  and  he 
must  come  and  see  after  her.  1  was  living  in  Lancaster,  Pa.,  with 
Col.  H  8.  McGraw's  family.  I  got  six  dollars  a  month.  I  told 
Mrs.  McGraw  about  my  sister,  and  told  her  I  thought  it  was  safe 
for  me  to  go  now;  that  1  would  be  safer  under  the  protection  of 
the  Union  soldiers.  1  got  her  to  advance  me  fifty  dollars  and  I 
started  on  my  journey  down  to  Monkton.  I  went  to  Little  York, 
Pa.,  and  from  York  to  Monkton,  Md.  I  got  to  my  aunt's  house 
about  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  She  was  not  at  home  The 
children  were  there,  and  they  told  me  Frances  was  living  with  Mr. 
Hutchinson.  Well,  I  didn't  know  where  Mr.  Hutchinson  lived, 
but  by  inquiring  got  on  the  right  road.  Finally  I  came  to  the 
man  who  had  been  magistrate  in  that  part  of  the  country;  I 
wanted  to  see  him,  for  I  had  heard  in  that  time  my  sister  had 
been  sold,  so  I  went  in  to  inquire  what  could  be  done.  My  sister 
was  born  free  — born  in  Pennsylvania  —  and  my  father  and  mother 
were  free,  and  I  wanted  to  see  what  could  be  done.  He  told  me 
that  Frances  had  run  off  from  my  aunt  and  come  to  their  house, 
and  as  he  saw  she  had  been  very  badly  treated,  and  as  she  was 
very  kind  to  the  children,  his  wife  thought  they  would  keep  her. 
She  came  to  him  for  protection.  Well,  just  at  that  time  they  were 
selling  black  people;  every  one  they  could  pick  up  anywhere  that 
could  not  prove  they  were  free  born,  were  sold  for  so  much.  My 
aunt  was  a  little  vexed,  so  she  did  not  bother  about  Frances,  and 
my  father  could  not  go  and  swear  for  her,  consequently  she  wjis 
sold  to  Mr.  Hutchinson  for  a  term  of  ten  years.  He  told  me  that 
all  I  could  do  was  to  see  Mr.  Hutchinson,  and  if  he  would  consent 
to  give  her  up,  I  could  get  her  by  paying  him  what  he  paid  for 
her.  He  said  there  was  nobody  to  come  forward  and  swear  f«jr 
her,  and  he  saw  she  was  not  kindly  treated,  but  that  was  all  he 
could  do  about  it.  He  did  not  take  much  pains  to  give  me  satis- 
faction. Oh!  those  were  times!  However,  after  he  told  me  what 
he  did,  I  started  for  Mr.  Hutchinson's.  My!  how  I  cried.  How 
I  thought  of  my  dear  mother.  I  was  all  alone.  I  walked  and 
prayed.  I  had  had  nothing  to  eat  all  day.  I  was  very  hungry.  I 
had  passed  several  farm-houses,  and  wanted  to  go  in  and  ask  fur  u 


83  Autobiography  of 

drink  of  water,  but  I  was  afraid.  Finally  I  came  to  a  very  fine 
house,  standing  back  from  the  road;  beautiful  grounds,  green 
grass  and  trees,  a  beautiful  white  veranda,  and  an  old  lady  in  a 
white  cap,  sitting  out  on  the  veranda;  there  was  a  pump  in  the 
yard,  with  a  nice  bright  tin  cup  hanging  on  it,  but  there  was  a 
large  dog  lying  on  the  stoop,  so  I  stood  at  the  gate  a  moment;  the 
old  lady  got  up  and  walked  to  the  end  of  the  veranda,  and  I  called 
out  to  her,  "Madame,  I'm  very  thirsty;  will  you  please  let  me 
come  in  and  get  a  drink  of  water? "  She  said  "No,  no;  go  on,  go 
on."  I  nearly  fainted  for  a  moment,  and  I  lifted  my  heart  and 
said,  "Now,  Lord,  help  me,  and  take  away  the  thirst;  "and  in  an 
instant  every  bit  of  thirst  and  hunger  left  me;  I  had  not  a  bit,  no 
more  than  if  I  never  had  been  thirsty.  I  walked  on  about  a  mile 
further  in  the  sun;  I  got  to  Mr.  Hutchinson's  and  saw  my  poor 
sister.  I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  a  heathen  in  Africa,  that  looked 
so  much  like  a  heathen  as  she  did.  I  could  hardly  speak  to  her. 
She  was  busy  at  work,  and  seemed  to  be  happ}',  but  I  was  not.  I 
told  her  I  had  come  after  her,  and  to  see  Mr.  Hutchinson.  Poor 
thing,  she  was  so  glad  to  see  me! 

I  don't  know  how  "[many  black  people  Mr.  Hutchinson  owned; 
he  was  excited  over  the  war;  and  while  he  was  considered  to  be  a 
very  good  man  to  his  black  people,  yet  he  was  rough  when  I  told 
him  what  my  errand  was.  When  I  told  him  my  sister  was  free- 
born,  was  not  a  slave  and  never  had  been,  he  simply  said  he  had 
nothing  to  do  with  that;  he  had  paid  forty  dollars  for  her,  and  he 
was  not  going  to  let  her  go  for  less.  Well,  I  didn't  know  what  to 
do.  I  cried,  but  he  raved;  he  swore,  and  said  Frances  had  not 
been  of  any  use  anyhow.  At  first  he  said  he  would  not  let  her  go 
at  all.  Then  he  went  into  the  house.  His  wife  was  a  very  nice 
woman.  How  well  I  remember  her.  I  cried,  and  cried,  and 
could  not  stop.  I  was  foolish,  but  I  could  not  help  it.  She  said 
something  to  him.  He  went  into  the  house,  and  by  and  by  he 
came  back  and  said  he  was  not  going  to  let  her  go  for  less  than 
forty  dollars.  Then  my  sister  told  me  if  I  would  go  over  to  Mrs. 
Hutchinson's  father's  (I  think  his  name  was  Matthews,  and  he 
was  a  Quaker),  and  see  him,  she  thought  he  might  help  me.  They 
were  very  nice  people,  and  had  always  been  kind  to  her.  It  was 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  across  the  fields.  So  I  went  over  there 
and  old  Mr.  Matthews  told  me  I  was  to  go  on  back,  and  next 
morning  he  would  ride  over.    So,  sure  enough;  next  morning  the 


Amanda  Smith. 


53 


old  man  came  over.  He  pitied  me,  I  saw,  but  he  could  not  help 
me  much.  Mr.  Hutchinson  walked  up  and  down  and  swore.  I 
told  Mr.  Matthews  that  I  had  no  money  scarcely,  and  I  did  not 
know  how  to  get  back  if  I  paid  out  the  forty  dollars.  I  would  only 
have  enough  to  get  back  to  York,  and  how  was  I  going  to  get  from 
York  to  Lancaster,  where  I  lived,  and  get  my  sister  there  besides? 
Well,  Mr.  Hutchinson  said,  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  that.  So 
he  told  my  sister  she  could  get  ready  and  go.  I  paid  him  the 
money.  Then  she  got  ready.  She  went  to  get  her  shawl,  and  he 
said  to  her  she  should  not  have  anyXhing  but  what  she  had  on. 
They  had  given  her  a  shawl,  a  dress  and  a  pair  of  great  big  brogan 
shoes;  and  they  let  her  take  the  dress  (a  blue  cotton  striped)  she 
had  on;  madame  had  given  her  a  gingham  apron;  that  she  was 
to  leave.  So  we  started;  just  what  she  stood  up  in,  with  one 
domestic  dress  under  her  arm,  was  all  she  had.  He  flourished  the 
horse-whip  around  so  I  didn't  know  but  we  were  both  going  to  get 
a  flogging  before  we  left;  but  we  got  out  without  the  flogging. 
But  oh!  wasn't  he  mad!  I  thanked  the  Lord  for  the  old  Quaker 
gentleman.  But  for  him  it  would  have  been  much  worse.  Then 
how  1  prayed  the  Lord  would  bless  Mrs.  Hutchinson.  I  believe 
she  was  good.  There  were  a  number  of  little  black  children 
around  there,  and  Mr.  Hutchinson  was  kind  to  them,  and  played 
with  them,  and  put  them  on  the  horse  and  held  them  on  to  ride, 
and  they  seemed  to  be  very  fond  of  him.  But  then  they  were 
slaves.  What  a  difference  it  made  in  his  feelings  toward  them. 
My  sister  was  free.  He  had  not  any  business  with  her,  and  I  had 
no  right  to  pay  him  any  money;  and  if  I  had  had  as  much  sense 
then  as  I  have  now,  I  would  not  have  paid  him  a  cent;  I  would 
have  just  waited  till  he  went  to  bed,  and  taken  the  underground 
railroad  plan.  But  it  is  all  over  now,  and  my  poor  sister  has  long 
since  gone  to  her  reward. 

When  I  came  back  to  Lancaster,  to  Mrs.  McGraw's,  she  allowed 
me  to  bring  my  sister  there,  and  she  helped  around  with  the  work 
till  I  got  her  trained  somewhat;  for  she  had  always  worked  in  the 
field,  and  had  very  little  idea  about  housework.  Now  I  worked, 
as  it  were,  for  a  dead  horse;  for  I  was  in  debt  to  Mrs.  McGraw 
fifty  dollars.  She  paid  me  my  wages  regularly,  but  there  was 
this  debt;  and  with  Frances  on  my  hands,  I  was  not  able  to  pay  a 
cent  of  the  fifty  dollars.  Oh!  how  it  worried  me.  I  hated  to 
think  of  it;  I  hated  so  to  have  debt.     But  then  I  could  not  help  it, 


54  Autobiography  op 

and  I  had  no  one  to  help  me.  My  sisters  were  all  poor,  and  worked 
hard  for  themselves.  Father  was  not  able  to  help  me.  One  day 
Mr.  Robert  McGraw,  Col.  McGraw's  brother,  came  to  spend  some 
time  with  them  in  Lancaster.  He  was  a  man  that  had  plenty  of 
means,  and  was  very  generous.  I  was  always  very  glad  when  Mr. 
Robert  came  to  see  them.  I  was  always  sure  of  two  dollars  and 
fifty  cents  or  five  dollars  when  he  went  away.  We  dined  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon;  had  breakfast  at  nine.  Mr.  Robert  had 
had  his  breakfast  and  gone  down  town.  He  went  into  a  bank  to 
get  a  bill  changed.  He  had  four  one  hundred  dollar  bills  rolled 
together.  He  went  into  the  bank  and  got  one  bill  changed  as  he 
went  down  in  the  morning.  He  came  back  at  three  o'clock  to 
dinner.  After  dinner  was  over  he  always  came  out  in  the  kitchen 
to  light  his  cigar.  Mrs.  McGraw's  son,  Henry,  a  boy  of  about  ten 
years  of  age,  had  a  very  fine  dog,  and  thought  a  great  deal  of  him. 
I  was  very  particular  about  my  kitchen,  and  they  would  come  out 
into  the  kitchen  and  get  to  playing,  and  would  sometimes  make 
my  kitchen  look  pretty  well  upset.  Of  course  I  didn't  say  any- 
thing, for  Mr.  Robert  was  kind;  but  I  did  not  like  it.  Now,  when 
he  got  the  bill  changed  and  went  to  put  the  three  hundred  dollars 
back  in  his  pocket,  instead  of  putting  the  money  into  his  pocket, 
he  slipped  it  inside  his  pants;  and  strange  as  it  may  seem,  he  had 
come  all  the  way  home  and  it  was  not  lost  on  the  street.  But 
while  he  was  playing  in  the  kitchen  with  little  Henry  after  dinner 
it  slipped  down  and  dropped  on  the  floor.  It  just  looked  like  a 
piece  of  paper  he  had  twisted  up  to  light  his  cigar.  I  saw  it  lying 
there,  but  did  not  bother  to  pick  it  up  at  first.  He  had  gone  away 
down  street.  It  was  a  little  rainy.  After  awhile  the  dog  came 
running  in  to  go  upstairs  after  Henry.  The  middle  door  was  shut 
and  he  could  not  get  upstairs.  As  he  came  back  past  me  I  went 
to  give  him  a  send  off  with  my  foot,  and  kicked  this  roll  of  paper 
that  lay  there.  Something  seemed  to  whisper  to  me,  "You  had 
better  pick  that  up  and  look  at  it.  It  might  be  a  twenty  dollar 
bank  note."  So  I  picked  it  up;  and  Oh,  my!  in  all  my  born  days 
did  I  ever  have  such  a  surprise.  Three  hundred  dollars!  Three 
one  hundred  dollar  bills  on  the  Baltimore  bank!  My!  But  I  said, 
"This  is  Mr.  Robert  McGraw's."  Mrs.  McGraw  was  very  kind, 
but  I  knew  if  I  gave  it  to  her  that  I  would  not  get  more  than  a 
dollar;  but  if  I  kept  it  and  gave  it  to  Mr.  Robert  I  was  sure  he 
would  give  me  five  dollars.     There  was  no  one  in  the  kitchen  but 


Amanda  Smith.  55 

myself.  The  other  two  servants  were  upstairs.  So  I  said  to 
myself,  "Mr.  Robert  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes."  This  was 
between  half  past  four  and  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  I  said 
nothing  to  any  one.  Mr.  Robert  did  not  come  till  along  about  si.x 
or  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening.  I  had  not  said  a  word  to  any- 
body. Tile  suggestion  came  to  me,  "Now  this  is  a  good  chanct- 
for  you  to  get  out  of  debt  to  Mrs.  McCiraw.  None  of  thcsf  bills 
are  marked,  and  you  can  take  it  tt)  tlu*  bank  and  givr  it  to  sonic- 
body  and  you  can  get  that  money."  I  let  all  these  thoughts  play 
through  my  mind,  and  then  I  said,  "Now,  Mr.  Devil,  you  lie  I 
don't  mean  to  get  into  any  trouble  about  that  money  at  all." 
After  awhile  I  heard  some  one  coming,  talking,  and  I  saw  two  or 
three  persons.  Mr.  Robert  did  not  come  in  »t  the  front  door;  he 
came  around  through  the  yard  and  came  in  at  the  side  door.  Two 
boys  were  with  him,  and  they  had  lanterns,  and  they  had  looked 
all  along  the  street  for  this  money. 

This  is  the  way  he  missed  it.  He  w^nt  into  a  barber  sho])  to 
get  shaved.  After  he  was  shaved  he  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket 
to  get  the  money  to  pay  for  it,  and  found  that  he  had  only  the 
money  that  he  had  got  changed.  The  other  bills  were  gone.  He 
was  very  jolly,  and  said,  '■  I  have  lost  threeor  four  hundred  dollars; 
I  don't  know  wiiich.  I  will  give  fifty  dollars  ifl  can  find  it."  And 
of  course  they  were  all  out  looking  for  it.  So  he  came  into  the 
yard. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Mr.  Robert?  " 

"Amanda,"  he  replied,  "I  have  lost  three  or  four  hundred 
dollars,"  and  then  saying  a  word  with  tvs«o  d's  in  it,  he  said  he 
didn't  know  which,  and  continued  looking  about  with  the  boys. 
I  said,  "My,  Mr.  Robert,  three  hundred  dollars?" 

"Yes,  three  or  four,  I  don't  know  which.  I  will  give  fifty 
dollars  if  I  can  find  it." 

As  soon  as  he  said,  "I  will  give  fifty  dollars  if  I  can  find  it," 
I  said  "  Mr.  Robert,  what  did  you  say?  " 

"I  said  I  will  give  fifty  dollars  if  I  can  find  it."  Then  he 
looked  up  at  me  through  his  glasses,  and  I  said,  "  I  wonder  if  I 
can  find  it,"  and  at  the  same  time  reached  way  down  in  my  ix)cket. 

"Amanda,"  he  said,  "did  you  find  if" 

"  Hold  on;  wait  till  I  se^^."     And  making  a  desperate  effort  I 
hauled  it  out.     There  were  the  three  one  hundred  dollar  bills 
My!  weren't  the  boys  surprised!    He  turned  right  around  to  the 


66  AUTOBIOGRAPSY  OF 

flour  chest  that  stood  in  the  kitchen  and  counted  me  out  fifty 
dollars  in  ten  dollar  bills. 

I  got  down  on  my  knees  right  there  and  then  and  thanked  the 
Lord,  and  Mr.  Robert  said,  "Oh,  Amanda,  it's  all  right,  it's  all 
right;  you  are  welcome  to  it." 

And  that  is  the  way  the  Lord  got  me  out  of  that  debt.  "  In 
some  way  or  other  the  Lord  will  provide."     Amen.     Amen. 


CHAPTER  VT. 

MARRIAGE  AND  DISAPPOINTED  HOPES  —  RETURN  TO  PHILADELPHIA 
— A  STRANGER  IN  NEW  YORK — MOTHER  JONES'  HELP — DEATH 
OP   MY   FATHER. 

After  my  conversion  I  continued  to  live  in  Columbia,  Pa.,  a 
year  or  two;  then  went  to  live  at  Colonel  McGraw's  in  Lancaster, 
about  ten  miles  from  Columbia,  where  I  remained  some  four  or 
five  years.  In  the  meantime  the  civil  war  had  broken  out,  and 
my  husband,  in  common  with  so  many  others,  enlisted  and  went 
South  with  the  army,  from  which  he  never  returned.  From  Lan- 
caster I  went  to  Philadelphia,  where  I  remained  at  service  with 
different  families  for  several  years.  There  I  became  acquainted 
with  James  Smith,  a  local  preacher,  to  whom  I  was  subsequently 
married. 

When  the  first  few  months  after  my  marriage  to  James  Smith 
had  passed,  things  began  to  get  very  unsatisfactory.  My  husband 
had  one  grown  daughter,  eighteen  years  of  age,  by  a  former  mar- 
riage, and  I  had  one  daughter,  about  nine  years  old,  by  my  first 
marriage.  At  times,  things  in  the  house  were  very  unpleasant.  I 
was  greatly  disappointed,  perhaps  I  had  expected  too  much  of  my 
husband.  He  was  a  local  preacher  and  an  ordained  deacon  in  the 
A.  M.  E.  Church.  My  first  husband  was  not  a  professing  Chris- 
tian at  all,  neither  was  I  when  I  married  him.  During  the  years 
of  my  widowhood  I  boarded  my  little  girl,  here  a  while  and  then 
there.  Sometimes  she  was  well  taken  care  of  and  at  other  times 
was  not;  for  I  found  that  often  people  do  things  just  for  the  little 
money  they  get  out  of  it;  and  when  I  would  go  and  see  the  condi- 
tion of  my  poor  child,  and  then  had  to  turn  away  and  leave  her 
and  go  to  my  work  I  often  cried  and  prayed;  but  what  could  I  do 
more  ?    I  had  not  yet  learned  to  trust  God  fully  for  all  things. 

One  reason  for  my  marrying  a  second  time  was  that  I  might  have 
(57) 


58  Autobiography  oB' 

a  Christian  home  and  serve  God  more  perfectly.  I  thought  to  marry 
a  preacher  would  be  the  very  thing,  though  notwithstanding,  I 
prayed  earnestly  for  light  and  guidance  from  the  Lord,  and  I 
believe,  now,  he  gave  it  me,  but  I  did  not  walk  in  it.  How  sorry 
I  have  been  many  times  since.  I  told  my  husband  how,  since  my 
conversion,  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  be  an  Evangelist.  He  quite  agreed 
to  it  all,  and  told  me  he  was  preparing  himself  to  join  the  Confer- 
ence and  so  go  into  the  itinerant  work.  He  explained  and  rea- 
soned it  all  so  well,  and,  of  course,  I  had  learned  to  love  him,  and 
that  went  a  good  ways  towards  making  everything  look  very  plausi- 
ble, notwithstanding  the  light  the  Lord  had  given  me,  I  said  the 
Lord  knows  the  deep  desire  of  my  heart  is  to  work  for  Him,  and  I 
could  help  my  husband  so  much  in  his  work.  I  had  seen  and 
known  the  influence  of  a  minister's  wife,  and  how  much  she  could 
help  her  husband  or  hinder  him  to  a  great  extent  in  his  work, 
Mr.  Smith  said  that  was  just  the  kind  of  a  wife  he  wanted.  I 
remembered  Rev.  Joshua  Woodland  and  his  wife,  how  they  used 
to  go  about  among  the  people  and  make  them  feel  they  were  of 
them,  and  all  who  knew  them  loved  them;  and  so  with  my  pastor. 
Rev.  L,  Patterson  and  his  wife.  She  would  lead  prayer  meeting 
and  pray  with  the  sick  and  dying,  and  was  a  beautiful  house- 
keeper with  all,  and  all  these  just  suited  me,  and  I  thought  how 
nice  it  will  be  to  be  able  to  do  so  much  good,  and  beside  to  be 
spoken  of  as  "Rev.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith."  I  thought  I  saw  it 
clearly,  and  I  said,  yet  after  all,  this  looks  like  the  Lord's  will.  At 
that  very  hour  Satan  had  gained  the  victory  over  me  and  yet  I  did 
not  know  it  was  he.  After  I  had  given  my  consent  I  went  to  the 
Lord  to  have  it  ratified,  but  not  a  ray  of  light  came.  I  felt  sad, 
but  what  could  I  do?  I  said  when  the  Conference  comes  and  Mr. 
Smith  gets  his  appointment  I  will  begin  work  at  once  with  the 
people,  and  T  will  then  get  light  and  liberty  of  soul  and  will  be  all 
right,  so  this  cheered  me;  but  O,  the  subtilty  of  Satan,  how  he 
can  transform  himself  into  an  angel  of  light  to  deceive  even  to 
this  day. 

The  marriage  was  over  and  the  Conference  came.  For  several 
weeks  prior  to  the  session  of  the  Conference  I  saw  that  my  husband 
did  not  seem  to  be  interested  and  studious  as  he  had  been,  and 
when  I  would  speak  to  him  about  it  he  would  be  cold  and  indiffer- 
ent. O,  how  indescribably  sad  I  felt;  I  was  frightened.  Now  I 
thought  if  he  changes  his  mind  and  does  not  join  the  Conference, 


Amanda  Smith.  59 

what  will  I  do?  I  felt  I  could  not  stand  the  disappointment.  My 
heart  was  sad,  yet  I  tried  to  hope  all  throujxh.  I  watched  my  hus- 
band, but  ht'  was  still  inditferent.  One  day  he  came  home  from 
the  Conference  quite  out  of  sorts  with  the  Bishop  and  all  the 
brethren,  and  I  knew  from  the  way  he  expressed  himself  all  was 
up  for  my  good  work  as  a  pastor's  wife;  but  I  prayed  with  what 
spirit  was  left  in  me  and  hoped  that  at  the  last  things  would  come 
out  all  right.  Finally,  the  Conference  closed  and  the  appoint- 
ments were  read.  I  said  to  my  husband:  "Are  you  not  going  to- 
night to  hear  the  appointments?" 

"No,  I  don't  want  to  hear  them;"  so  I  went  out  alone.  It 
seemed  to  me  T  could  scarcely  walk  to  the  church — old  Bethel 
Church,  on  Sixth  street,  Philadelphia.  I  went  in,  sat  down  and 
listened  to  the  long  list  of  appointments  read.  James  Smith's 
name  was  not  there.  I  said,  can  it  be  I  have  heard  rightly.  I 
saw  my  mistake,  Satan  had  deceived  me.  "O,  Lord,"  I  said, 
"what  shall  I  do?"  I  went  home  and  asked  my  husband  all 
about  it. 

I  shall  never  forget  how  he  took  me  on  his  lap  and  kindly  put 
his  arm  around  me  and  said,  tenderly,  "My  dear,  I  was  afraid  to 
tell  you  what  was  really  in  my  heart,  I  was  afraid  you  would  not 
marry  me." 

"But  how  could  you  deceive  me  so?" 

"I  knew  it  was  wrong,"  he  said,  "but  you  will  forgive  me?" 

Of  course,  I  would,  and  did,  but  the  remembrance  was  griev- 
ous.    The  Lord  sustained  me  and  gave  me  His  grace. 

After  a  year  Mrs.  Colonel  McGraw,  with  whom  I  had  lived  in 
Lancaster  for  some  four  years,  came  for  me  to  go  a  few  months  to 
Wheatland,  Md.,  where  they  had  moved.  They  found  it  difficult 
to  get  a  cook,  and  they  thought  I  might  go  for  a  few  months  to 
get  the  house  settled.  After  getting  the  consent  of  my  husband, 
I  took  my  baby,  little  Nell,  six  months  old,  and  my  daughter 
Mazie,  and  we  went  for  the  summer.  O,  what  I  went  through 
during  those  three  months!  I  had  to  do  all  the  cooking  for  the 
house,  and  eight  farm  hands,  beside  helping  with  the  washing  and 
doing  up  all  the  shirts  and  fine  clothes  and  looking  after  my  chil 
dren.  How  I  did  it  I  don't  know.  There  were  but  two  other 
servants  in  the  house,  chambermaid  and  waiter,  so  I  had  no  help 
only  as  they  were  kind  enough,  at  times,  to  lend  a  hand.  My  baby 
seemed  to  get  along  nicely  for  the  first  three  weeks,  then  she  was 


60  Autobiography  op 

taken  sick  with  summer  complaint,  and  in  six  weeks  I  had  to  lay 
her  away  in  the  grave  to  await  the  morning  of  the  Resurrection. 
Mrs.  McGraw  had  gone  to  Lancaster,  so  was  not  there.  Mr.  Mc- 
Graw  was  just  as  kind  as  he  could  be  to  make  things  as  pleasant 
as  possible.  He  made  all  the  arrangements  for  the  funeral,  and  bore 
all  the  expenses,  but,  in  spite  of  all,  m}'  mother  heart  was  sore 
and  sad.  My  husband  was  at  Bethlehem  Springs  and  could  not  get 
there.  Nevertheless,  the  Lord  stood  by  me.  Praise  His  name  for 
ever  and  ever.     Amen. 

In  the  fall  I  returned  home  to  Philadelphia,  and  went  out  to 
days'  work  and  took  washing,  in  every  way  to  help  mj'  husband. 
In  the  course  of  time  the  Lord  gave  me  another  dear  little  boy, 
and  I  named  him  after  Thomas  Henry,  whom  I  loved  for  his 
Christian,  manly  bravery  in  the  dark  da3's  of  slavery. 

He  was  a  member  of  the  M.  E.  Church,  and  was  a  licensed 
preacher  for  a  number  of  years  at  Hagerstown,  Md.,  and  left  that 
church  and  joined  the  A.  M.  E.  Church  in  1834.  The  stewards 
and  sometimes  the  preachers,  in  those  days  owned  slaves,  and  as 
one  of  the  stewards  of  the  church  he  belonged  to,  sold  a  poor  col- 
ored girl  away  from  her  child,  he  was  sad  about  it,  knowing  them 
all  as  he  did;  so  he  went  to  the  Presiding  Elder  and  asked  him 
about  the  clause  in  the  discipline  about  buying  and  selling  slaves. 
He  told  him  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  Steward's  prop- 
erty'; and  after  still  further  inquiry  the  same  answer  was  given. 
Then  with  Tom  Henry  forbearance  ceased  to  be  a  virtue  and  he  said 
no  man  whose  hand  is  red  with  innocent  blood  shall  ever  put  the 
Sacrament  in  my  mouth.  Heremaineda  worthy  member  of  the  A. 
M.  E.  Church,  which  he  served  nobly  till  he  fell  asleep  in  Jesus, 
about  ten  years  ago. 

I  speak  of  him  because  he  was  a  father  to  me,  and  so  often 
comforted  my  heart  when  I  would  be  almost  overwhelmed. 

The  story  of  his  life  ought  to  be  read  by  every  Methodist 
preacher  of  to-day,  for  many  of  them  have  forgotten  what  the 
fathers  had  to  go  through  in  preparing  a  church  for  them  to  carry 
forward.  What  wonderful  changes  have  been  since  then!  Surely, 
God  hath  been  good  to  Israel. 

In  1865  my  husband  took  a  position  at  Leland's  Hotel,  and  we 
moved  from  Philadelphia  to  New  York.  We  were  strangers,  I, 
especially.  My  husband,  James  Smith,  was  a  Mason  and  an  Odd 
Fellow,  so  in  that  way  knew  many  more  persons  than  I.     The  New 


Amanda  Smith.  61 

York  people,  both  white  and  colored,  seemed  so  different  from  the 
Philadelphia  people.  I  could  not  seem  to  get  into  their  ways.  In 
Philadelphia  my  church  relations  were  so  congenial  and  spiritual, 
but  here  I  was  very  lonesome.  We  found  it  difficult  to  get  rooms. 
In  Philadelphia,  you  could  get  a  small  house  to  yourself,  but  rents 
in  New  York  were  high,  and  there  were  many  things  in  the  way. 
I  hoped  my  husband  would  go  back  again;  but  no,  I  must  make 
the  best  of  things  till  we  got  started  and  acquainted.  That  means 
something  when  one  goes  to  New  York  a  stranger,  as  I  did,  and 
with  but  little  money.  I  took  a  situation  as  cook  up  town,  Twenty- 
fourth  street  and  Lexington  avenue,  with  a  Mrs.  L.  It  was  a  very 
nice  place;  there  I  stayed  about  two  months.  My  husband  got  a 
room  in  York  street,  an^  then  I  only  went  out  to  day's  work,  still 
findin|:  the  people  with  whom  I  met  cool  and  unsocial  compared 
with  what  they  were  in  Philadelphia.  I  told  my  husband  I  did 
not  like  New  York.  Then  he  advised  me  to  join  some  societies, 
then  I  would  get  better  acquainted.  All  the  leading  high-toned 
church  people  were  in  society;  so  it  was  then,  and  is  to-day.  Well,  I 
was  high-toned  in  spirit, —  always  had  been;  I  think  I  took  after  the 
white  folks  I  lived  with;  they  were  aristocratic.  So  I  thought  that 
is  a  good  idea  and  I  will  get  to  know  all  the  nice  people;  so  I  joined 
three  different  societies. 

I  was  greatly  disappointed  in  the  spirit  that  I  saw  manifested 
among  the  members,  but  I  said  I  will  have  to  get  used  to  things, 
then  it  will  be  better,  so  I  went  on  for  a  year.  Then  there  was  a 
new  society  started  called  the  "Heroines  of  Jericho."  None  but 
Master  Masons'  wives  and  daughters  could  join  it,  and  this  society 
was  very  high-toned,  and  as  my  husband  was  a  Master  Mason,  he 
was  anxious  for  me  to  join.  He  came  home  one  night  and  told  me 
all  about  it.  Nothing  would  do  but  I  must  join  this  if  I  let  some 
of  the  others  go. 

Well,  after  some  weeks  I  did,  and  we  had  flashy  times,  all  the 
tinsel  regalia  and  turn  out  and  money  spending  and  show;  it  took 
all  I  could  gather  to  keep  up  with  it,  and  I  had  no  chance  to  draw 
anything,  for  I  had  good  health  aid  was  never  sick;  but  still  I 
must  go  on  paying  my  dues  regularly,  as  I  had  begun;  and  so  I 
did  till  '68,  then  after  God  had  sanctified  my  soul  He  opened  my 
eyes  to  see  the  folly  of  all  this  and  taught  me  how  to  trust  in  Him, 
and  I  came  out  of  every  one  of  them. 

The  more  I  prayed  about  it  the  clearer  God  made  it  to  me  that 


62  Autobiography  op 

all  these  secret  societies  are  the  mothers  of  selfishness,  pride  and 
worldliness.  I  shall  praise  God  forever  that  when  I  asked  Him  for 
light  on  these  things  He  gave  it  to  me,  and  as  I  walked  in  it  He 
led  me  out  into  a  place  of  broad  rivers.  Some  of  the  sisters  and 
brethren  visited  me  and  tried  to  persuade  me.  They  said,  "you 
were  just  come  to  where  j^ou  would  be  in  office,  and  you  have  paid 
so  much  money  in,  and  you  should  not  leave  it  now.  "  When  I  did 
not  yield  they  turned  on  me  and  treated  me  coolly,  and  said  many 
unkind  things  about  me.  But  thank  God,  I  was  out  to  go  in  no 
more.  I  treated  everybody  very  kindly,  and  did  pray  for  them  all, 
for  I  knew  God  would  give  them  light  if  they  only  would  receive  it. 
After  this  I  had  my  trials.  My  husband  could  not  under- 
stand why  I  should  take  such  a  position,  but  I  could  not  explain, 
I  could  only  sing, 

"He  leadeth  me!     Oh!  blessed  thought, 
Oh!  words  with  heav'nly  comfort  fraught; 
Whate'er  I  do,  where'er  I  be, 
Still  'tis  God's  hand  that  leadeth  me." 

One  morning  as  I  was  over  the  wash-tub  my  heart  was  sore. 
Oh!  what  a  night  I  had  had.  I  felt  I  could  not  bear  any  more, 
and  I  said,  O,  Lord,  is  there  no  way  out  of  this?  And  as  I  wept 
and  prayed  the  Lord  sent  Mother  Jones.  I  did  not  want  her  to 
catch  me  crying;  I  did  not  believe  in  telling  all  my  little  troubles, 
but  there  she  was,  and  I  was  so  full  and  had  suppressed  so  long 
that  I  could  hold  in  no  longer.  "Well,  Smith,"  she  said,  "how 
do  you  do?" 

"O,  Mother  Jones,  I  am  nearly  heart-broken;  James  is  so 
unkind,"  and  I  began  to  tell  all  my  good  works;  how  I  did  this 
and  how  I  did  that,  and  all  I  could  to  make  things  pleasant,  and 
yet  he  was  unkind. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "  that  is  just  the  way  Jones  used  to  do  me, 
but  when  God  sanctified  my  soul  He  gave  me  enduring  grace,  and 
that  is  what  you  need;  get  sanctified,  and  then  you  will  have 
enduring  grace." 

"My,"  I  thought,  "  is  that  what  sanctification  means?  Endur- 
ing grace?  That  is  just  what  I  need;  I  have  always  been  planning 
to  get  out  of  trials,  instead  of  asking  God  for  grace  to  endure;  " 
and  as  she  talked  on.  down  deep  in  my  heart  I  prayed  the  Lord  to 
make  her  go  so  I  could  get  sanctified  and  get  enduring  grace, 


Mr.  Samuel  I^ekhy,  Father  of  Amanda  Smith. 


Amanda  Smith.  63 

before  James  came  home.  O,  how  I  did  want  hor  to  go!  After  a 
while  she  went. 

The  minute  she  shut  the  door  I  turned  the  koy  and  ran  into 
the  bed-room  and  j^'ot  on  my  kners  and  prayed,  *'0,  Lord,  sanctify 
my  soul  and  give  me  enduring  grace.  O,  Lord,  sanctify  my  soul 
and  give  me  enduring  grace." 

Oh!  how  1  struggled  and  wept  and  prayed.  I  threw  myself  on 
the  tloor,  on  my  face,  then  I  got  up  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
room,  wrung  my  hands,  pulled  my  hair  and  cried,  "  O,  Lord,  sanc- 
tify my  soul  and  give  me  enduring  grace." 

I  thought  if  I  could  only  get  it  before  James  came  home  at 
night,  for  1  could  never  go  through  another  night  like  last  night, 
then  I  would  cry,  "O,  Lord,  sanctify  my  soul  and  give  me  en- 
during grace."  So  I  went  on  for  an  hour,  and  when  I  got  through 
I  did  not  have  the  great  blessing;  God  had  prepared  a  better  way. 
I  was  in  such  distress  that  1  never  thought  about  faith;  I  was 
taken  up  with  my  desire  and  distress  when  seeking  the  blessing. 
Well,  I  did  not  get  it  then,  of  course,  for  faith  without  works  is 
dead,  so  works,  without  real  faith  in  God,  are  dead  also. 

"I  struggled  and  wrestled  to  win  it, 
The  blessing  that  setteth  me  free. 
But  when  I  had  ceased  all  my  struggle, 
This  peace  Jesus  gave  unto  me." 

In  this  connection  I  will  give  a  brief  account  of  the  closing 
years  of  my  father's  life,  as  doubtless  some  may  desire  to  know 
how  he  who  had  fought  the  battle  of  life  so  bravely  met  the  last 
great  enemy  —  death. 

After  my  mother's  death  my  father  married  again,  but  his 
second  marriage  was  not  as  congenial  as  the  first,  and  father  had 
got  older,  and  was  not  patient  and  forbearing  as  he  ought  to  have 
been;  and  mother's  people  and  children  and  grandchildren  all  lived 
in  Baltimore,  so  that  she  would  be  away  often  for  months  at  a 
time.  Father  was  old-fashioned,  and  did  not  like  some  of  the  new 
methods  in  church,  such  as  fairs  and  festivals  and  the  like;  so 
that  in  speaking  against  these  things,  and  not  in  the  mildest  spirit . 
I  fear,  he  offended  the  pastor  of  the  church  he  belonged  to;  it  was 
the  African  Zion  Church,  called  Big  Wesley,  in  Philadelphia,  on 
Lombard  street,  below  Sixth.  He  was  a  class  leader,  but  he  had 
Incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  pastor  and  the  people  mostly;  so 


64  Autobiography  of 

things  got  to  be  very  unpleasant,  and  his  spirit  got  sour  and  he  left 
the  church. 

The  Quakers  had  a  mission  on  St.  Mary's  street,  for  the  col- 
ored people,  and  they  did  a  great  deal  of  good,  and  father  used  to 
go  there  regularly;  he  seemed  to  enjoy  it;  they  were  plain  and 
very  kind;  they  manifested  such  a  kind  spirit  towards  all  the  col- 
ored people,  and  looked  after  the  poor  so  nicely  in  the  winter  time. 
There  were  large  and  good  Bible  classes,  and  they  had  excellent 
teachers.  But  notwithstanding  all  this,  my  father  had  lost  his 
spiritual  life.  Oh!  how  it  grieved  me  to  think  of  it.  I  wept  and 
prayed  for  him,  and  would  talk  to  him  sometimes  when  he  would 
let  me;  but  the  old-time  people  did  not  want  much  talk  from  the 
children;  so  I  had  to  be  very  careful. 

After  the  Lord  had  sanctified  by  soul,  my  burden  for  my  poor 
father  increased!  Oh,  how  sad!  I  wept,  and  it  seemed  that  the 
Lord  must  save  him  anyhow,  whether  or  no.  But,  oh!  how  I 
learned  that  we  cannot  do  anything  by  trying  to  drive  God.  He 
cannot  be  driven.  "But,  oh!"  I  said,  "  It  is  my  dear  father  I 
want  saved,  and  the  Lord  can  and  must  save  him." 

He  was  working  at  that  time  on  a  large  and  high  building, 
and  I  was  so  afraid  if  he  were  to  fall  and  be  crippled,  or  killed;  I 
could  not  bear  to  think  of  it.  So  I  prayed  more  fervently.  One 
day  I  had  an  awful  test  while  I  was  praying  for  him  in  New  York; 
he  was  in  Philadelphia;  and  it  came  tome,"  Would  you  be  willing 
for  your  father  to  be  lost?"  Oh!  my  blood  seemed  to  curdle  at 
the  thought;  how  I  did  cry  to  God.  Then  it  came,  "Suppose  it 
was  God's  will,  could  you  submit?  " 

"Oh!  Lord,"  I  cried,  "You  made  him,  and  he  is  yours,  and 
you  have  a  right  to  do  with  your  own  what  you  please;  but  oh! 
save  my  father." 

Then  it  came,  "Suppose  you  were  to  hear  that  he  had  fallen 
off  that  building  and  was  injured  for  life?  "  Just  then  it  seemed 
I  saw  him  fall,  and  saw  the  men  bring  him  home,  all  mangled  and 
bleeding.  Oh!  what  horror!  I  held  my  breath,  for  it  seemed  it 
was  really  so. 

"I  cannotbear  the  thought  of  seeing  him  suffer,"  I  said.  "But, 
oh.  Lord,  if  there  is  no  other  way,  then  let  Thy  will  be  done." 
And  I  let  go  of  father  and  took  hold  of  God;  and  though  I  cannot 
tell  how,  I  rested  so  sweetly  in  God.  His  justice  is  right.  His 
love  is  right.     Two  years  after  this  passed  away  before  my  father 


Amanda  Smith.  65 

died;  but,  oli!  how  sweetly  llif  Lord  seemed  to  brin^'  him  to  Him- 
self; took  all  the  harshness  out  of  liim;  sweetened  him  down  so 
beautifully,      1  shall  never  for;,'et. 

I  liad  been  home  to  Philadelphia  on  a  visit,  and  I  had  father 
come  ai\)und  one  ni<rht  to  tea  before  1  left;  he  seemed  so  changed 
and  ditferent  from  what  ln'  had  be.-n;  he  had  been  sick  for  several 
days,  but  not  in  bed.  1  was  not  there  when  he  died.  The-  morning 
lie  died;  he  got  up  as  usual,  was  very  weak,  but  dressed  himself, 
put  on  all  his  Sunday  clothes,  went  out  and  took  a  walk,  came 
back  and  read  his  Bible,  and  then  said  to  my  sister,'"!  feel  so 
weak,  I  think  I  will  go  upstairs  and  lie  down."  And  they  went  up 
a  little  while  after,  and  she  saw  he  was  dying;  not  a  struggle  or  a 
groan.  I  never  had  an  anxious  thougiit  about  him  from  the  time 
I  sank  down  into  the  will  of  God.  What  else  ought  we  to  do. 
when  we  bring  our  friends,  but  to  sink  into  the  will  of  God,  and 
put  them  into  His  hands,  and  trust  Him?     Amen.     Amen. 

I  had  three  brothers  in  the  late  war.  My  youngest  brother 
came  home  sick,  and  died  in  the  hospital  at  Harrisburg,  in  Sep- 
tember, '62.  I  did  not  hear  of  his  sickness  until  it  was  too  late.  I 
went  at  once,  but  when  I  got  there  he  was  dead  and  buried  two 
days  or  more.  Oh,  what  a  blow  it  was  to  me!  He  was  my  favor- 
ite brother.  He  was  home  on  a  furlough  with  his  captain,  and 
came  to  see  me.  He  and  I  had  talked  of  trying  to  buy  a  little  home 
for  father.  He  was  rather  wild  and  I  wanted  him  to  save  his 
money  and  send  it  to  me,  and  I  would  put  mine  with  it.  Poor  boy! 
I  wondered  why  he  didn't  write  after  he  went  away.  But  he  was 
taken  with  smallpox  and  died,  and  I  never  saw  him  again.  I  saw 
the  men  that  were  with  him  while  he  was  sick  and  dying,  and  his 
grave;  that  is  all,  till  the  morning  of  the  Resurrection. 

My  next  brother,  Samuel  Grafton,  served  three  years.  He 
lived  at  Towanda,  Pa.,  and  about  a  year  ago  he  was  drowned. 

My  oldest  brother,  William  Talbert,  served  two  years  in  the 
war,  and  died  about  eight  or  nine  months  ago  at  York,  Pa.  How 
glad  I  was  that  I  went  to  see  them  all  before  I  went  to  Africa,  and 
talked  and  prayed  with  them,  and  helped  them  all  I  could.  Out 
of  a  large  family  of  thirteen  children,  two  sisters  and  myself  an- 
all  that  are  living.  One  of  my  sisters  lives  in  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  and 
the  other  in  San  Francisco,  Cal. 

But  I  return  to  the  story  of  my  experiences  in  New  York. 

The  rent  in  York  street  was  high.     We  got  a  room  on  Broom 


66  Autobiography  op 

street.  I  went  out  house  cleaning  then,  but  my  condition  was 
such  that  I  could  not  get  on  very  well,  and  after  a  few  months  the 
woman  that  I  had  the  room  with  said  I  would  have  to  move,  she 
was  afraid  I  would  be  sick,  and  she  could  not  attend  to  me,  and 
she  was  afraid  I  was  not  able  to  get  any  one.  That  was  true.  It 
took  about  all  I  could  earn  to  pay  rent  and  keep  up  our  societies, 
so  I  heard  that  persons  in  my  state  were  well  cared  for  at  the  Col- 
ored Home.  I  told  my  husband  I  would  go  there  until  after  'my 
confinement.  He  consented,  as  we  could  get  no  suitable  rooms, 
and  I  went;  but  oh!  when  I  got  there  and  saw  how  things  were  I 
could  not  stay  longer  than  a  week.  My  husband  went  to  see  a 
friend,  Mrs.  Harris,  a  Philadelphia  woman.  She  lived  in  Grove 
street.  She  was  taking  care  of  some  one's  house  uptown  and  was 
not  home  at  her  own  house.  Her  husband  only  was  in  at  night, 
so  she  told  my  husband  I  could  come  there.  I  went  there  from 
the  Home. 

When  my  baby  was  three  weeks  old  I  took  a  situation 
with  a  person  that  seemed  to  be  a  real  lady;  she  gave  me 
three  dollars  a  week,  with  my  baby.  I  had  not  been  in  the  house 
long  before  I  saw  it  was  the  wrong  place.  Several  girls  passing 
back  and  forth  through  the  kitchen  and  laughing  and  behaving 
so  rudely,  I  saw  that  they  were  not  straight.  Oh!  how  sad.  I 
had  gone  for  a  week  until  she  could  get  some  one.  What  shall  I 
do,  shall  I  go?  I  need  the  money  and  I  said  I  will  stay  this  week, 
so  I  told  the  madame  I  would  stay  only  for  a  week.  She  said  she 
was  sorry,  but  if  I  would  only  stay  she  would  give  me  more  wages. 
I  told  her  she  must  get  some  one,  I  could  not  stay,  I  would  go 
when  my  week  was  up;  so  when  the  day  came  she  stayed  out  of 
the  kitchen  all  day,  and  sent  orders.  Then  she  went  out  pretend- 
ing to  look  for  some  one;  got  back  very  late,  sent  word  if  I  would 
staj^'  till  the  next  day  she  would  pay  me,  some  one  had  promised 
to  come,  so  she  went  on  for  several  days.  One  night  I  waited 
until  nine  o'clock;  I  sent  up  for  the  money;  she  wanted  me  to  stay 
till  morning;  I  said  I  will  not  stay  in  this  house  another  night,  I 
will  leave  here  to-night  if  it  is  not  till  twelve  o'clock.  She  sent 
the  money,  not  as  she  promised,  but  with  cursing.  I  was  glad  to 
take  what  I  got  and  get  out.  I  went  to  a  friend,  Mrs.  N.,  on  Sul- 
livan street,  and  stayed  all  night;  I  slept  but  little.  She  had  a 
house  full  of  washing,  but  little  room,  so  she  made  me  a  bed  on  an 
ironing  board  and  two  chairs.    Next  morning  while  my  baby  slept, 


Amanda  Smith.  C7 

I  felt  led  to  go  around  aud  see  my  old  Philadelphia  friend.  Mrs. 
Harris,  on  Grove  street,  who  had  now  got  home  again,  to  see  if 
she  could  tell  me  of  a  room  anywhere.  On  my  way  back  the  Lord 
seemed  to  direct  me  and  1  came  through  Amity  street.  I  silw  in 
the  rear  a  furnished  room  to  let.  I  went  in.  There  I  met  old  Mrs. 
Anderson,  who  was  very  kind  and  said  when  1  told  her  who  1  was, 
that  she  had  heard  her  sons,  Gus  and  Peter,  speak  of  me.  I  had 
met  them  years  before  at  Long  liranch.  She  seemed  so  i»leased; 
it  was  she  that  had  the  basement  to  let.  She  let  me  have  the 
basement  at  six  dollars  per  month,  and  I  told  my  husband  when 
he  came  in  the  evening  from  the  hotel,  and  he  said  he  would  pay 
the  rent:  Oh  I  how  glad  I  was.  I  did  thank  God;  I  knew  He  had 
led  me. 

There  was  a  carpet  on  the  floor,  a  good  sized  stove,  a  bed- 
stead, three  chairs,  a  table  and  a  lamp.  I  ran  away  and  got  m^' 
poor  baby  and  was  soon  back.  It  was  rather  damp  and  I  had 
never  lived  in  a  basement  before  in  my  life,  but  I  soon  had  a  good 
fire,  and  then  when  my  husband  came  he  was  glad  and  sent  the 
things,  what  few  we  had,  and  in  a  week  or  two  I  began  to  feel 
quite  at  home.  Persons  began  to  bring  in  washing  to  me,  a  half 
dozen,  then  a  dozen,  etc.,  and  so  I  went  on.  After  the  first  two 
months  Sister  A.  wanted  the  carpet  off  the  floor;  a  day  or  two  later 
she  wanted  the  table.  All  right,  I  said,  it  was  rather  inconvenient, 
but  still  I  gave  it.  Another  month's  rent  paid.  Two  or  three 
days  after  she  wanted  the  mattress  off  the  bed,  and  I  said,  *' Sister 
A.,  3'ou  let  the  basement  furnished  for  six  dollars  a  month." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  can  get  more  than  that  for  it,  and  I 
want  the  mattress." 

"All  right,"  I  said,  and  gave  it  to  her.  Then  I  began  to 
guess  what  New  York  sharpers  meant.  Next  thing  was  a  chair, 
then  the  next  was  the  stove.  She  said  she  had  a  good  chance  to 
sell  it.  I  begged  her  then  to  let  me  have  the  stove  a  little  longer, 
and  in  time  the  Lord  helped  me  and  I  got  a  stove.  In  the  mean- 
time some  one  moved  out  from  the  upstairs.  I  told  James,  and 
we  moved  upstairs.  Four  rooms  at  eight  dollars  a  month.  I  kept 
two  and  rented  out  the  two  attic  rooms,  so  that  helped  to  pay  my 
rent.  Then  I  began  to  get  in  some  families'  washing  and  was 
getting  on  very  nicely,  so  much  better  to  be  upstairs  and  out  of 
the  damp  basement,  and  1  was  happy.  Then  a  shadow.  Little 
Tom  Henry,  my  baby,  was  taken  sick,  and  after  several  weeks  of 


68  '     Autobiography  ob' 

great  suffering  he  died,  and  we  laid  him  away  in  Greenwood  Cem- 
etery, there  to  await  the  glorious  Resurrection  morn.  My  poor 
heart  was  sad  for  days,  but  Oh!  how  the  Lord  comforted  me  and 
upheld  me  with  all. 

I  still  went  on  with  my  washing.  Many  nights  I  have  stood 
at  m}'  wash-tub  all  night,  from  six  in  the  morning  till  six  the 
next  morning,  and  so  at  my  ironing  table,  night  and  day.  I 
would  get  so  sleepy  I  could  hardly  stand  on  my  feet,  then  I  would 
lean  my  head  on  the  window  ledge  and  sleep  a  little  till  the  first 
deep  sleep  would  pass  off,  then  1  would  work  on  till  daylight  with 
perfect  ease.  I  had  to  use  all  the  economy  I  could,  and  I  knew 
just  how  much  ironing  I  could  do  with  a  ten  cent  pail  of  coal. 
If  I  lay  down  I  would  oversleep  myself,  and  my  fire  would  burn  out, 
and  my  coal  would  be  gone.  I  worked  hard  day  and  night,  did  all 
I  could  to  help  my  husband,  but  he  was  one  of  those  poor  unfor; 
tunate  dispositions  that  are  hard  to  satisfy,  and  many  a  day  and 
night  my  poor  heart  ached  as  1  wept  and  prayed  God  to  help  me. 

In  the  next  rooms  to  me,  on  the  same  floor,  a  Mrs.  J.  lived; 
she  was  an  old  Philadelphian.  She  had  known  my  husband,  and 
I  thought  as  she  was  an  old  Philadelphian,  and  she  seemed  so 
nice,  I  would  have  a  true  friend  who  would  sj'mpathize  with  me 
and  help  me.  How  often  when  we  are  passing  through  deep 
trials  we  look  for  human  sympathy,  and  lean  on  the  human  more 
than  on  God.  In  this  I  have  always  failed;  but  still  I  had  to 
learn  by  experience.  She  was  a  widow.  She  and  her  daughter 
lived  together.  I  was  as  kind  as  I  could  be,  and  did  all  1  could 
for  her  poor  daughter  when  she  was  ill.  Mrs.  J.  and  I  had  the 
same  landlady,  Mrs.  Bowen.  She  lived  in  the  front  house  just 
above  Sixth  avenue  on  Amity  street.  She  was  far  from  being  a 
Christian  woman,  but  was  kind  and  lenient  about  her  rent. 

We  paid  her,  not  always  the  first  day  of  the  month.  She 
would  take  a  dollar  at  a  time  just  as  she  could  get  it  and  say 
nothing.  Christmas  time  came.  Mrs.  B.  sent  over  to  ask  Mrs. 
Johnson  to  come  in  and  cook  her  Christmas  dinner,  and  she  would 
let  it  go  on  the  rent,  as  she  was  behind,  and  so  it  would  help  her. 
Mrs.  J.  said  she  would  do  it,  but  in  the  evening  another  party 
came  for  Mrs.  J.  and  paid  her  the  cash,  notwithstanding  she  had 
promised  Mrs.  B.  she  would  go.  She  sent  her  daughter  to  Mrs. 
B.  and  she  went  where  she  would  get  the  cash.  This  displeased 
Mrs.  B.  very  much,  when  she   considered  how  lenient  she  had 


Amanda  Smith.  69 

been  Willi  her  for  so  lon^^  The  j,nrl  was  youn^;  niul  could  not  do 
the  work  us  well  as  her  mother,  and  Mrs.  B.  said,  "  1  will  not  put 
up  with  Mrs.  .1.  any  lon^'er;  she  shall  move." 

1  iiifd  to  talk  to  her  as  best  1  could,  and  told  ht-r  to  set-  Mrs. 
.1.  and  not  i)Ut  her  out;  it  might  be  she  would  i)ay  up  all  her  back 
r.iil.  Xo,  she  would  «;o  to  Jetlt'rson  Market  and  have  a  notice 
sent  ht'r  to  move. 

"Wait,"  I  said,  "till  she  conn-s  honn-  to-nij?ht  and  Iwar  what 
she  says."  So  when  Mrs.  J.  came  1  told  her  she  had  bett»*r  go  iu 
and  see  Mrs.  B.  and  not  have  her  send  the  notice;  but  to  my  sur- 
prise Mrs.  J.  was  quite  spunky,  and  said  if  she  wanted  to  send 
her  a  notice  she  could  do  so. 

"  Well,  Johnson,"  I  said,  "you  know  Mrs.  B.  has  been  very  kind, 
and  I  think  you  ought  to  go  in  anyhow  and  tell  her  why  you  did 
not  come;"  but  she  did  not;  so  Mrs.  B.  had  her  summoned  before 
the  court  of  Jetferson  Market.  Saturday  morning  came.  1  had  a 
large  basket  of  gentlemen's  shirts  to  iron.  Mrs.  J.  came  in  and 
asked  me  if  I  would  go  to  court  with  her.  I  said.  "J..  I  have  to  get 
these  shirts  home  by  one  o'clock;  the  gentleman  is  goini:  away,  and 
I  have  promised,  and  if  I  go  with  you  I  can't  do  it."  A  friend 
of  Mrs.  J.'s  was  there,  and  I  said,  "Charlotte,  can't  you  go?  " 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  am  going." 

"O,"  I  said,  "then  you  don't  need  me;  there  is  no  u.se  of  so 
many  going."     She  said,  "yes." 

I  went  to  my  work,  and  thought  when  they  came  back  they 
would  tell  me  how  they  came  out;  but  no,  neither  of  them  came 
near.  When  I  met  Mrs.  J.  in  the  evening  I  said,  "  LJ(X)d  evening, 
Mrs.  J.,  is  that  you?"  She  did  not  speak.  I  was  dumbfounded. 
I  said,  "That  is  Mrs.  J.,  I  know;  but  what  is  the  matter?"  A 
week  passed.  She  went  and  came,  and  one  evening  as  I  was  com- 
ing in  I  walked  up  to  her  and  took  hold  of  her  and  said,  "  But  say, 
Johnson,  what  is  the  matter?"  She  pulled  away  from  mt-.  but 
never  spoke  a  word. 

O,  how  vexed  I  was  at  myself.  I  said  the  id«'a  of  my  forcing 
people  to  speak  to  me  when  they  don't  want  to,  and  I  have  done 
nothing  to  them.  "  I  will  never  speak  to  her  again  while  I  live,"  I 
said.  For  two  years  after,  God  only  knows  what  I  had  to  un- 
dergo through  that  woman. 

She  had  succeeded  in  paying  up  the  back  rent,  and  Mrs. 
Boweu  was  kind  enough  to  let  her   stay.      She  lived  next  door  to 


70  Autobiography  op 

mo  on  the  same  floor.  Her  daughter  would  speak,  but  she, 
never.  Sometimes  she  would  act  as  though  she  wanted  to,  but  I 
was  afraid  to  trust  her,  as  she  had  acted  so  rudely  before.  She 
used  to  tantalize  me  by  sending  messages  to  me  by  people. 
When  it  would  be  my  Saturday  to  scrub  the  long  veranda  and 
down  the  steps,  she  would  wait  on  Saturday  night  till  it  was  all 
done,  and  then  would  throw  greasy  bread  crumbs  all  over  thv.' 
stoop  and  steps,  and  you  know  how  grease  will  spread  on  soft  pine. 
I  would  often  cry,  but  said  not  a  word. 

A  Sister  Brown,  to  whom  I  had  let  my  two  rooms  upstairs, 
and  Mrs.  J.  got  to  be  very  special  friends.  In  the  spring  I  went 
out  house-cleaning,  and  often  when  I  would  come  home  from 
work  Mrs.  B.  would  come  in  to  talk  and  have  a  great  story  to  tell 
me  about  what  Mrs.  Johnson  said.  I  said  nothing.  I  knew  if  I 
opened  my  mouth  that  both  of  those  dear  sisters  would  wish  they 
were  miles  awa}'.  I  prayed  God  not  to  let  me  speak;  so  one  day  I 
got  home  about  four  o'clock;  a  little  while  after  Sister  B.  came  in, 
so  kind,  apparently.  After  talking,  she  began  about  what  Mrs. 
Johnson  said.  I  said,  "  Look  here.  Sister  B.,  I  have  no  objections 
if  Sister 'Johnson  and  you  talk  about  me  all  you  like.  I  work  hard, 
and  though  I  live  beside  Mrs.  Johnson,  I  don't  live  off  of  her.  I 
I  don't  owe  her  a  cent" — (and  she  did  owe  me,  for  she  had  bor- 
rowed money  from  me  and  never  has  paid  it  yet).  I  said,  "  You 
must  never  tell  me  anything  she  says  again  while  you  live.  I  am 
next  door  to  Mrs.  Johnson,  and  if  she  wants  me  to  know  these 
things  she  must  tell  me  herself." 

These  sisters  were  both  in  my  own  church.  So  poor  Sister  B. 
took  offense  at  what  I  said  and  moyed  into  Mrs.  Johnson's.  Mrs. 
Johnson  moved  into  her  two  attic  rooms  and  let  Mrs.  Brown  have 
the  lower  rooms.  I  said  nothing,  but  went  on  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  My!  what  fine  cronies  they  were;  but  it  was  not  of 
long  duration.  After  a  few  months  Mrs.  B.  and  Mrs.  J.  had  a 
terrible  falling  out,  and  I  had  to  take  Mrs.  B.  to  keep  her  from 
being  set  out  in  the  street;  and  so  had  a  chance  to  return  good  for 
evil  This  greatly  changed  Mrs.  B.'s  spirit.  We  got  on  nicely 
till  they  were  able  to  suit  themselves  better.  Amid  all  this  my 
soul  cried  out  after  God.  I  would  talk  to  my  husband,  but  he  had 
no  sj^mpathy  with  holiness.  He  had  had  advantages  far  above 
me,  and  was  far  more  intelligent.  He  would  always  want  to  argue 
on  this  subject,  and  I  could  not  keep  up  on  that  line  and  it  would 


Amanda  Smith.  71 

throw  me  back,  so  I  told  the  Lord  one  day  if  He  wouldsend  James 
:ivvay  somewhere  till  I  got  the  blessing  he  would  never  get  it  awa\ 
again,  but  that  he  hindered  me  from  getting  it.  I  knew  he  would 
often  go  away  with  his  people  for  a  month  or  two  at  a  tinif. 
That  was  in  my  mind  when  I  prayed;  so,  sure  enough,  in  about  a 
week  after  this  prayer  1  looked  out  one  morning  and  there  came 
James  back.  When  lie  came  in  1  said,  "Myl  James,  what  is  up. 
are  the  folks  going  away ".'"' 

*'No;  they  have  got  a  young  Irishman,  just  from  the  old 
country,  a  nephew  of  the  cook  who  has  lived  in  the  family  for  a 
number  of  years,  and  they  have  taken  him  at  fifteen  dollars  a 
month.  He  has  been  around  me  for  two  weeks,  pretending  he 
came  to  visit  his  aunt,  but  1  see  now  he  was  only  taking  lessons 
how  to  manage  the  horses." 

James  got  forty  dollars,  and  a  reduction  to  fifteen  was  a  good 
deal  in  the  employer's  pocket.  My  heart  throbbed.  "O,"  1  said, 
"if  he  should  find  out  I  prayed  he  would  blame  me,"  and  1  wa.s 
afraid  to  talk  much.  He  was  like  a  fish  out  of  water  when  he 
had  no  work.  It  was  two  weeks  before  he  got  a  situation.  Being 
a  first-class  coachman,  he  would  not  take  less  than  forty  dollars. 
Finally  he  got  a  situation  at  fifty  dollars  a  month  at  New  Utrecht, 
with  a  Mr.  Roberts.  He  had  only  to  drive  twice  a  day.  They 
had  fine  English  horses,  and  they  wanted  them  well  cared  for. 
They  gave  a  comfortable  house,  rent  free,  two  tons  of  coal  for  the 
winter,  and  a  barrel  of  flour.  This  was  the  first  of  Septembt-r. 
He  went  and  wanted  me  to  go,  but  having  a  right  young  baby  1 
said,  "  No,  James;  I  have  got  some  nice  families'  washing  in,  and 
you  go  and  try  till  spring,  and  I  will  save  up  and  in  the  spring  we 
will  take  a  fresh  start  and  we  can  have  our  garden  and  every- 
thing." But  no,  I  must  go  right  away.  I  reasoned  every  way  I 
could,  but  he  was  determined  I  should  go.  At  last  I  said,  "James, 
I  am  afraid  to  go;  you  have  done  me  so  bad  right  here  where  1 
have  just  begun  to  get  used  to  the  people,  and  know  how  to  turn 
around,  and  what  will  it  be  if  I  go  there  out  in  the  country,  no 
church  near,  and  a  stranger,  und  if  I  give  up  my  washing  what 
will  I  do?  I  can  help  myself  a  little  now."  But  this  did  not 
please  him,  and  I  told  him  I  would  wait  till  spring.  The  landlady 
died,  and  a  new  landlord  raised  the  rent,— thirteen  dollars.  He 
paid  the  rent,  but  would  do  no  more.  His  daughter  was  married 
and  lived  in  Philadelphia,  so  he  sent  for  them  to  come  on  and  live 


12  Autobiography  of 

in  the  house,  and  he  lived  with  them  and  would  come  home  every 
other  Sunday  and  stay  till  Monday.  He  came  home  regularly 
every  fortnight.  I  said,  "Now,  Lord,  while  James  is  away  do 
please  give  me  the  blessing  I  seek.  I  will  be  true,  I  will  never  let 
anything  he  may  say  or  do  get  the  blessing  away  from  me." 

One  day  while  cleaning  up  my  room  I  distinctly  heard  a  voice 
say  to  me,  "On  Sunday  morning  go  to  Green  Street  Church  and 
hear  John  Inskip." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "I  will." 

Then  came  such  a  quiet  hush  all  over  me,  and  I  smiled.  This 
was  on  Wednesday  morning.  So  I  went  on  thinking  it  over.  Now, 
I  was  not  definitely  seeking  the  blessing  as  I  had  been.  I  thought 
when  an  opportunity  offered  and  I  could  be  baptized  and  come  up 
to  the  Bible  standard,  then  the  Lord  would  have  to  sanctify  me. 
How  blind  I  was  I 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE   BLESSING  —  ABOUT   SEEKING   SANCTIFICATION    BY   WORKS. 

I  always  got  up  as  early  on  Sunday  mornings  as  on  other 
mornings.  I  got  my  breakfast  and  cleaned  up  my  house,  and  at 
nine  o'clock  my  little  Mazie  went  to  Sunday  School.  While  she 
was  gone  I  would  cook  all  my  dinner  and  get  everything  ready.  I 
ilid  not  have  time  to  cook  much  through  the  week,  as  I  had  of  ten 
to  dry  my  clothes  in  the  house  and  I  could  not  have  the  smell  of 
cooking,  so  Sunday  was  the  only  day  I  would  have  a  real  good 
dinner,  but  I  never  stayed  home  from  church  to  cook  —  so  I  gave 
my  baby  his  bath  and  laid  him  in  his  cradle,  then  I  got  down  on 
my  knees  and  prayed  the  Lord  to  keep  Will  asleep  till  I  went  to 
Green  Street  Church,  and  to  keep  James  in  a  good  humor  so  he 
would  not  scold  me,  for  I  hated  to  be  scolded,  in  the  worst  way. 
James  was  peculiar.  If  he  came  and  I  happened  to  be  out,  even 
though  I  went  to  carry  clothes,  he  would  be  vexed.  So  after 
Mazie  came  I  said,  "Now  you  read  your  library  book  and  be  a 
good  girl,  I  am  going  to  Green  Street  Chwrch  this  morning;  it  lets 
out  before  our  church  does,  so  I  will  be  home  in  time.  You  can 
tell  your  pa,  if  he  comes  before  I  get  back.  If  Will  cries,  don't 
take  him  up;  just  rock  him." 

She  was  a  good  strong  girl,  thirteen  years  old,  quite  able  to 
take  care  of  him  and  could  manage  him  quite  as  well  as  I  could, 
so  I  went  and  left  them.  On  my  way  to  Green  street,  it  seemed 
the  Devil  overtook  me.  Just  as  I  turned  in  Carmine  street,  I  felt 
a  Satanic  influence  walking  by  my  side  and  whispering,  "Now, 
you  know,  if  James  comes  home  and  finds  you  are  out,  you  know 
what  you  will  catch;  you  had  better  go  to  Bedford  Street  and  hear 
John  Cookman." 

"Well,  I  will." 

So  when  I  got  to  the  corner  and  was  just  going  to  turn  down 
(73) 


74  Autobiography  op 

Bleecker  street,  a  voice  said,  "No,  goon."  I  went  on.  After  I 
had  gone  about  half  a  block  Satan  whispered  again,  "  You  are 
seeking  sanctification?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  if  James  comes  home  and  you  are  out,  he  will  be  very 
angry,  and  that  will  be  a  sin  and  you  should  not  make  anybody 
sin." 

"No,"  I  said,  "I  will  not  do  it." 

Then  Satan  said,  "You  had  better  go  and  hear  that  Presby- 
terian minister  on  the  corner  of  Houston  and  Prince  streets."  I 
had  heard  how  kind  they  were  to  colored  people  and  I  had  prom- 
ised several  times  I  would  go  and  hear  this  minister;  the  Devil 
had  found  that  out  some  way;  I  can't  tell  how  he  knew  it,  but  he 
did.  "  You  had  better  go  and  hear  him;  then,  it  is  nearer  home, 
three  blocks  nearer,  and  you  can  get  home  quick." 

"Y^'es,"  I  said,  "  that  is  so. " 

When  I  got  to  the  corner,  as  I  was  about  to  turn  down,  with  a 
gentle  pull  a  sweet  voice  whispered,  "  No,  no,  go  on." 

"Lord,  help  me!" 

Oh,  how  will  I  ever  praise  God  enough  for  His  tender  love  and 
faithfulness  to  me  in  that  awful  hour.  He  gave  power  to  my 
fainting  spirit,  and  when  I  had  no  might.  He  increased  strength. 
Hallelujah!     Hallelujah!     Praise  the  Lord! 

I  went  on  a  little  further  and  by  and  by  the  enemy  seemed  to 
approach  me  again  fiercely.  He  said,  "Now,  you  are  the  biggest 
fool  that  ever  was.  Y^ou  think  you  are  going  to  hear  John  Inskip; 
he  is  not  there,  he  is  at  the  Five  Points." 

"  O,  if  I  thought  Brother  Inskip  was  not  there,  I  would  not  go. 
I  would  go  back." 

I  went  on.  When  I  reached  the  steps  I  shall  never  forget  the 
thrill  of  joy  that  ran  through  my  heart  when  I  heard  Brother 
Inskip  pray.  With  what  strength  I  had  left  I  said,  "  Thank  God, 
he  is  here  and  not  at  the  Five  Points."  I  seemed  to  feel  the 
Satanic  presence  sweep  by  me  and  say,  "O,  she  has  found  it  out." 
Old  Satan  knew  I  had  caught  him  in  one  of  his  biggest  lies.  I 
went  into  the  church  and  sat  down  about  three  seatsif  rom  the  door. 
I  had  been  to  that  church  but  once  before  and  that  was  Brother 
Inskip's  first  Sunday.  While  I  lived  in  York  street  I  was  very 
sick  and  could  not  walk  away  up  to  Sullivan  Street  Bethel  Church, 
where  I  belonged,  so  I  went  in  there  that  Sunday.     I  sat  in  the 


Amanda  Smith.  75 

^'.-illrry.  Thf  pcoplr  wtTc  so  kiiul:  one  bndht-r  liaiidrcl  im  n  hook 
aiul  asked  me  to  fomo  a^Min.  I  thank  Ciod  lor  thai  spirit  that 
\Vas  in  tJn'iMi  street  those  days,  even  to  cok)red  people.  The  Sun- 
day '  ijot  the  bh'ssing  I  did  not  sit  upstairs,  but  O,  how  tin*!  1 
was  when  I  jjot  into  the  church.  I  leaned  my  head  forward  and 
prayed  God  to  give  me  strength.  When  Brother  Inskip  had 
finished  his  prayer  he  rose  and  made  his  announcements;  the  last 
hymn  was  sung,  then  came  the  text:  —  Ephesians,  4th  Chapter 
24th  Verse, — "  And  that  ye  put  on  the  new  man,  which  after  God 
is  created  in  righteousness  and  true  holiness."  He  said,  "In 
preaching  from  this  text  this  morning  the  brethren  will  observ*-  I 
shall  have  to  make  some  reference  to  a  sermon  that  I  preached  a 
few  Sabbaths  ago  on  sanctification." 

I  was  struck,  for  I  had  never  heard  a  minister  say  that  word 
in  commencing  his  sermon  before,  and  I  said,  "  O,  I  have  missed 
my  chance;  two  Sabbaths  ago  I  had  such  a  drawing  to  come  hen 
and  I  did  not  do  it;  O,  Lord,  I  have  disobeyed  that  spirit  and  I 
am  so  sorry;  do  forgive  me  and  help  me,  I  pray  Thee." 

O,  how  I  wept,  for  I  had  lost  my  chance  and  I  am  so  hungry 
for  the  blessing;  but,  "Lord  forgive  me  and  help  me  to  listen 
now. ' ' 

I  raised  my  head  and  fixed  my  eyes  and  thoughts  on  the 
speaker  and  got  so  interested  it  seemed  he  was  preaching  right  to 
me,  and  I  took  every  word.  By  and  by  I  heard  my  baby  scream 
out, —  I  heard  him  scream  as  distinctly  as  ever  I  heard  a  child 
scream.  "You  told  Mazie  not  to  take  that  child  up,  but  she  has 
done  it  and  let  him  fall,"  Satan  suggested. 

For  a  moment  the  actual  thing  did  occur,  and  it  was  before 
my  eyes.  My  heart  stood  still  and  a  voice  said,  "Trust  the 
Lord." 

"I  will."  I  said,  and  fixed  my  mind  again  and  listened,  and 
as  dear  Brother  Inskip  warmed  up  and  I  was  feasting,  my  baby 
screamed  out  again.  I  jumped,  and  it  seemed  that  all  the  peoph' 
in  the  church  heard;  it  was  so  plain. 

"There,"  the  Devil  says,  "James  has  come  home  and  Mazie 
has  not  done  as  you  told  her,  and  you  will  catch  it  when  you 
get  home." 

O,  I  felt  if  I  had  wings  I  would  fly.  I  wanted  to  scream  out. 
A  sweet  voice  said,  "You  said  you  would  trust  the  Lord." 

"So  I  did,"  I  said,  so  I  sat  back  and  was  listening  and  drink- 


76  AUTOBIOGKAPHY   OF 

ing  in  and  thought  all  was  well  now.  Again  I  heard  my  baby 
scream. 

"There,"  said  the  Devil,  "Mazie  has  let  him  fall  and  broken 
his  back,"  and  I  got  up  and  walked  to  the  end  of  the  pew. 

"It  is  no  use,"  I  said,  "I  shall  be  tormented  here;  I  will  go 
home."  And  it  was  as  though  a  person  stood  before  me  and  said, 
"  Didn't  you  say  that  you  would  trust  the  Lord  with  that  child?" 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "and  I  will  trust  the  Lord,  even  if  he  is  dead;" 
and  I  sat  down.  Just  as  I  sat  down  Brother  Inskip  said:  "  There 
are  a  great  many  persons  who  are  troubled  about  the  blessing  of 
sanctification;  how  they  can  keep  it  if  they  get  it." 

"Oh!"  J  said,  "he  means  me,  for  that  is  just  what  I  have 
said.  With  my  trials  and  peculiar  temperament  and  all  that  I 
have  to  contend  with,  if  I  could  get  the  blessing  how  could  I  keep 
it?  Now,  some  one  has  told  him,  for  he  is  looking  right  at  me 
and  I  know  he  means  me."  And  I  tried  to  hide  behind  the  post, 
and  he  seemed  to  look  around  there.  Then  I  said,  "Well,  he 
means  me,  and  I  will  just  take  what  he  says."  He  used  this  illus- 
tration: "When  you  work  hard  all  day  and  are  very  tired, — 
"  Yes,"  I  said,  and  in  a  moment  my  mind  went  through  my  wash- 
ing and  ironing  all  night,— "When  you  go  to  bed  at  night  you 
don't  fix  any  way  for  yourself  to  breathe,"— "  No,"  I  said,  "I  never 
think  about  it,"— "You  go  to  bed,  you  breathe  all  night,  you 
have  nothing  to  do  with  your  breathing,  you  awake  in  the  morn- 
ing, you  had  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"  Yes,  3'es,  I  see  it." 

He  continued:  "You  don't  need  to  fix  any  way  for  God  to 
live  in  you;  get  God  in  3^ou  in  all  His  fullness  and  He  will  live 
Himself. 

"Oh!"  I  said,  "I  see  it."  And  somehow  I  seemed  to  sink 
down  out  of  sight  of  myself,  and  then  rise;  it  was  all  in  a  moment. 
I  seemed  to  go  two  ways  at  once,  down  and  up.  Just  then  such  a 
wave  came  over  me,  and  such  a  welling  up  in  my  heart,  and  these 
words  rang  through  me  like  a. bell:  "God  in  you,  God  in  you," 
and  I  thought  doing  what?  Ruling  every  ambition  and  desire, 
and  bringing  every  thought  unto  captivity  and  obedience  to  His 
will.  How  I  have  lived  through  it  I  cannot  tell,  but  the  blessed- 
ness of  the  love  and  the  peace  and  power  I  can  never  describe.  O, 
what  glory  filled  my  soul!  The  great  vacuum  in  my  soul  began 
to  fill  up;  it  was  like  a  pleasant  draught  of  'cool  water,  and  I  felt 


Amanda  Smith.  77 

it.     1  wanted  Lu  .shoiiL  (Jlory   to  .Icsus!  l)iit  S;it:in  s.iid,  "Now,  if 
you  make  a  noise  they  will  put  you  oui.  ' 

I  was  tlie  only  colort'd  pt-rson  tliere  and  I  liad  a  very  kern 
sense  of  proi)riety;  I  had  been  tau^'lit  so,  and  ISalau  knew  it.  I 
wonder  how  he  ever  did  know  all  these  little  points  in  me,  but  in 
spite  of  all  my  Jesus  came  out  best.  As  we  colored  folks  used  to 
sing  in  the  gone  by  years: 

"Jrsus  is  a  mighty  captain, 

Jesus  is  a  mighty  captain, 

Jrsus  is  a  miglity  captain, 

Soldier  of  the  cross." 

'■  Ji'sus  never  lost  a  battle, 
Jesus  never  lost  a  battle, 
Ji'sus  never  lost  a  battlt\ 
Soldier  of  the  cross." 

Hall.'lulah:  Hallelujah!  Amen. 

I  did  not  shout,  and  by-and-by  Brother  Tnskipcame  fo  another 
illustration.  He  said,  speaking  on  faith:  "Now,  this  blessing  of 
purity  like  pardon  is  received  by  faith, and  if  by  faith  why  not  now?" 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

"It  is  instantaneous,"  he  continued.  "To  illustrate,  how 
long  is  a  dark  room  dark  when  you  take  a  lighted  lamp  into  if.'" 

"O,"  I  said  "I  see  it!"  And  again  a  great  wave  of  glory 
swept  over  my  soul  — another  cooling  draught  of  water— I  seemed 
to  swallow  it,  and  then  the  welling  up  at  my  heart  seemed  to  come 
still  a  little  fuller.     Praise  the  Lord  forever,  for  that  day! 

Speaking  of  God's  power,  he  went  on  still  with  another  illus- 
tration. He  said:  "If  God  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  can  change 
these  vile  bodies  of  ours  and  make  them  look  like  his  own  most 
glorious  body,  how  long  will  it  take  God  to  sanctify  a  soul?" 

"God  can  do  it,"  I  said,  "in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,"  and  as 
quick  as  the  spark  from  smitten  steel  I  felt  the  touch  of  God  from 
the  crown  of  my  head  to  the  soles  of  my  feet,  and  the  welling  up 
came,  and  I  felt  I  must  shout:  but  Satan  still  resisted  me  like  he 
did  Joshua.  But  the  Captain  of  the  Lord's  host  stood  clos»'  by  and 
said,  "Takeoff  the  filthy  garments  from  him,"  and  Satan  was  mad. 

Again  I  yielded  lo  the  tempter  and  did  not  shout.  Tlun  I 
felttheSpirit  leave  mi-.  I  knew  He  had  gone,  and  I  said:  "(),  Hoi;, 
Ghost,  if  Thou  wilt  only  return   1  will  confess  Thee."     I  am  so 


78  Autobiography  op 

glad  God  put  the  word  confession  in  my  mouth.  I  thought  I 
would  get  ready,  so  when  the  Spirit  came  again  I  would  shout; 
but  before  I  knew  it  just  as  though  some  one  threw  a  basin  of 
water  in  my  face,  a  great  wave  came  and  just  as  I  went  to  say, 
"  Glory  to  Jesus! "  the  Devil  said,  "  Look,  look  at  the  white  people, 
mind,  they  will  put  you  out,"  and  I  put  my  hands  up  to  my  mouth 
and  held  still,  and  again  I  felt  the  Spirit  leave  me  and  pass  away. 

Then  Satan  said:  "Now,  you  have  lied  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  for 
you  said  if  the  Holy  Ghost  returned  you  would  confess  Him,  and 
He  did  return  and  you  didn't  confess,  and  you  have  lied  to  the 
Holy  Ghost." 

O,  shall  I  ever  forget  the  horror  of  that  hour?  I  thought  I 
had  committed  an  unpardonable  sin,  so  was  doomed  forever.  All 
hope  was  gone,  and  a  horror  of  darkness  swept  upon  my  spirit. 
For  about  five  minutes  it  seemed  to  me  I  was  in  hell,  but  some- 
how, I  don't  know  how,  I  said,  "Well,  I  know  the  Lord  has  sancti- 
fied my  soul"  —  I  felt  so  sure  of  it — "and  I  will  go  home  to  my 
church  and  give  the  witness." 

Just  then  Satan  says:  "They  will  not  believe  you  because  you 
did  not  get  the  blessing  there." 

Then  I  knew  there  was  a  little  jealousy  and  prejudice  among 
some,  so  I  said:  "Well,  no  matter,  I  know  the  Lord  has  sanctified 
my  soul,  anyhow."  And  1  went  to  get  up  to  go  out,  but  could  not 
stand  on  my  feet.  O,  I  was  so  weak.  My  head  seemed  a  river  of 
waters  and  my  eyes  a  fountain  of  tears.  T  put  my  hand  in  my 
pocket  to  get  my  handkerchief,  but  I  could  not  get  it  out.  Just 
then  they  arose  to  sing  the  closing  hymn,  that  blessed  hymn, 
"My  latest  sun  is  sinking  fast."  I  tried  to  get  up,  but  could  not; 
then  the  Devil  says,  "No  one  knows  you  here,  and  they  will  think 
you  are  drunk." 

"Lord,  what  shall  I  do,"  and  a  vofce  seemed  to  whisper  in  my 
left  ear,  for  Satan  stood  at  my  right,  and  would  whisper  his  sug- 
gestions: "  Pray  for  strength  to  stand  up. "  I  took  hold  of  the  pew 
in  front  of  me  and  trembling  from  head  to  foot  T  stood  up,  but  held 
on  to  the  pew.  Just  as  I  got  fairly  on  my  feet  they  struck  the  last 
verse  of  the  hymn, 

**Oh!  bear  my  longing  heart  to  Him, 
Who  bled  and  died  for  me. 
Whose  blood  now  cleanseth  from  all  sin. 
And  gives  me  victory." 


Amanda  Smith.  79 

And  when  they  sang  these  words,  "Whose  blood  now  ch'jins- 
cth,"  O  what  a  wave  of  glory  swept  over  my  soul  I  I  shouted  glory 
to  Jesus.  Brother  Inskip  answered,  "Amen,  Glory  to  God."  (), 
what  a  triumph  for  our  King  Emmanuel.  I  don't  know  just  how 
I  looked,  but  I  felt  so  wonderfully  strange,  yet  I  felt  glorious.  One 
of  the  good  official  brethren  at  the  door  said,  as  I  was  passing  out, 
"Well,  auntie,  how  did  you  like  that  sermon?"  but  I  could  not 
speak;  if  I  had,  I  should  have  shouted,  but  I  simply  nodded  my 
head.  Just  as  I  put  my  foot  on  the  top  step  I  seemed  to  frcl  a 
hand,  the  touch  of  which  I  cannot  describe.  It  seemed  to  press  me 
gently  on  the  top  of  my  head,  and  I  felt  something  part  and  roll 
down  and  cover  me  like  a  great  cloak!  I  felt  it  distinctly;  it  was 
done  in  a  moment,  and  O  what  a  mighty  peace  and  power  took 
possession  of  me!  I  started  up  Green  street.  The  streets  were  fiill 
of  people  coming  from  the  different  churches  in  all  directions. 
Just  ahead  of  me  were  three  of  the  leading  sisters  in  our  church. 
I  would  sooner  have  met  anybody  else  than  them.  I  was  afraid 
of  them.  Well,  I  don't  know  why,  but  they  were  rather  the  ones 
who  made  you  feel  that  wisdom  dwelt  with  them.  They  were  old 
leading  sisters,  and  f  have  found  that  the  colored  churches  wen- 
not  the  only  ones  that  have  these  leading  consequential  sisters  in 
them.  Well,  as  I  drew  near,  I  saw  them  say  something  to  each 
other,  and  they  looked  very  digmfied.  Now,  the  Devil  was  not  so 
close  to  me  as  before;  he  seemed  to  be  quite  behind  me,  but  he 
shouted  after  me,  "You  will  not  tell  them  you  are  sanctified." 

"No,"  I  said,  "I  will  say  nothing  to  them,"  but  when  I  got 
up  to  them  I  seemed  to  have  special  power  in  my  right  arm  and  I 
was  swinging  it  around,  like  the  boys  do  sometimes!  I  don't  know 
why,  but  O  I  felt  mighty,  as  I  came  near  those  sisters.  They  said, 
"Well.  Smith,  where  have  you  been  this  morning?" 

"The  Lord,"  I  said,  "  has  sanctified  my  soul."  And  they  were 
speechless!  I  Said  no  more,  but  passed  on,  swinging  my  arm!  I 
suppose  the  people  thought  I  was  wild,  and  I  was,  for  God  had  set 
me  on  fire!  "O,"  I  thought,  "if  there  was  a  platform  around  the 
world  I  would  be  willing  to  get  on  it  and  walk  and  tell  everybody 
of  this  sanctifying  power  of  God!" 

"Of  victory  now  o'er  Satan's  power. 
Let  all  the  ransomed  sing. 
And  triumph  in  the  dying  hour 

Through  Christ  the  Lord  our  King." 


80  AUTOBIOGKAPHY   OF 

**Oh!  it  was  love, 
'Twas  wondrous  love, 

The  love  of  God  to  me, 
That  brought  my  Saviour  from  above, 

To  die  on  Calvar}'." 

Somehow  T  always  had  a  fear  of  white  people  —  that  is,  I  was 
not  afraid  of  them  in  the  sense  of  doing  me  harm,  or  anything  of 
that  kind  —  but  a  kind  of  feai  because  they  were  white,  and  were 
there,  and  I  was  black  and  was  here!  But  that  morning  on 
Green  street,  as  I  stood  on  my  feet  trembling,  I  heard  these  words 
distinctly.  They  seemed  to  come  from  the  northeast  corner  of 
the  church,  slowly,  but  clearly:  "There  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek, 
there  is  neither  bond  nor  free,  there  is  neither  male  nor  female, 
for  ye  are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus."  (Galatians  3:28.)  I  never 
understood  that  text  before.  But  now  the  Holy  Ghost  had  made 
it  clear  to  me.  And  as  I  looked  at  white  people  that  I  had  always 
seemed  to  be  afraid  of,  now  they  looked  so  small.  The  great 
mountain  had  become  a  mole-hill.  "Therefore,  if  the  Son  shall 
make  you  free,  then  are  you  free,  indeed."  All  praise  to  my  vic- 
torious Christ! 

"He  delivered  me  when  bound. 

And  when  wounded,  healed  my  wound. 

Sought  me  wandering,  set  me  right, 

Turned  my  darkness  into  light." 

Hallelujahl     Hallelujah!     Praise  the  Lord! 

When  T  got  home  T  opened  the  door;  the  baby  was  Still  asleep. 
I  said:  "  Mazie,  has  Mr.  Smith  come?  " 

"No." 

"Has  Will  slept  all  right?" 

"Yes,  he  has  not  wakened  up  at  all." 

"Well,  the  Lord  has  sanctified  my  soul  this  morning,"  and 
she  said,  "Has  he,  mother?" 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "and  I  want  to  go  around  and  tell  Auntie 
Scott."  She  was  my  good  band  sister.  She  lived  in  Clinton  court, 
off  Eighth  street.  When  I  got  to  the  door,  I  knocked  and  opened 
at  the  same  time.  Brother  Scott  was  lying  on  the  sofa;  he  waS" 
assistant  class  leader  to  Brother  Henry  De  Schield's,  who  was  my 
leader.  He  believed  in  the  doctrine  of  holiness,  but  had  not  the 
experience  at  that  time,  but,  thank  God,  he  believed  in  it  and  said 


Amanda  Smith.  81 

nothing  against  it,  so  that  was  in  my  favor.  Brother  Scott  was 
•on  th«'  fence,"  sometimes  he  would  seem  to  believ*'  in  it  and  talk 
as  though  he  had  it,  at  another  time  he  would  oppose  it  bitterly, 
so  you  never  knew  just  when  he  would  turn  on  you.  When  1  went 
in  that  morning,  T  said:  "  Pop  Scott,  the  Lord  has  sanctified  my 
soul  this  morning." 

He  raised  himself  up,  and  said:  "Did — did  He?"  (He  stam- 
mered a  litth'.)  I  did  not  wait  for  any  more,  I  began  to  sing  an 
old  hymn  tliat  I  had  often  heard  sung  in  our  love  feasts  and  class 
meetings  in  the  gone-by  days,  which  seemed  to  be  the  real  .song  of 
my  soul.  I  had  never  felt  such  soul  union  with  Jesus  before  in  my 
life;  so  I  sang: 

"  I  am  married  to  Jesus 
For  more  than  one  year, 
I  am  married  to  Jesus 
For  during  the  war." 

The  old  man  looked  at  me  and  smiled  and  got  ready  for  an 
argument.  The  children  all  looked  astonished.  Sister  Scott  had 
not  come  in  from  church.  When  I  had  finished  the  verse,  I  said, 
"Good  morning,"  and  as  I  opened  the  door  to  go  out,  Sister  Scott 
was  just  coming  in.  I  said;  "Oh,  Scott!  the  Lord  has  sanctified 
my  soul  this  morning." 

I  thought  she  would  be  so  glad  for  she  told  me  that  years 
before  in  Canada,  she  had  got  the  blessing  through  Mrs.  Dr.  Pal- 
mer. She  never  spoke  of  it  definitely  and  clearly,  so  I  never  un- 
derstood anything  about  it,  but  to  my  great  surprise  she  very 
coolly  said,  "  Well  I  hope  you  will  keep  it,"  and  passed  right  in  by 
me,  and  said  not  another  word.     I  went  out.     Oh,  what  a  shock! 

"There,"  the  Devil  says,  "She  don't  believe  you  have  got  the 
blessing." 

"O  Lord,"  T  said,  "Can  it  be  that  T  am  mistaken  and  will  I 
have  to.  go  back  and  go  all  over  the  ground.  I  would  rather  die 
right  here  in  my  tracks." 

As  r  was  turning  out  of  Eighth  street  in  Sixth  avenue,  I  cried 
out,  "O  Lord,  help  me,  and  if  this  blessing  is  not  sanctification, 
then  what  is  it?"  And  the  Lord  did  help  me.  Quick  these  words 
came  with  power  to  my  heart:  "  It  is  the  power  of  God  unto  sal- 
vation to  every  one  that  believeth."  "  Believeth,"  seemed  to  be 
so  powerfully  emphasized,  and  I  said,  "Lord,  I  do  believe  that 
Thou  hast  sanctified  my  soul,"  and  the  power  of  God  came  upon 


82  Autobiography  op 

me  so  that  my  knees  gave  way  under  me  and  T  dropped  as 
though  I  were  shot,  right  on  Sixth  avenue.  The  people  were  pass- 
ing and  looked  at  me  and  said  nothing.  I  suppose  they  thought  I 
was  a  little  gone  in  the  head,  but  God  had  turned  my  captivity 
and  my  mouth  was  filled  with  laughter.  I  scrambled  up  as  best  I 
could,  for  I  did  not  fall  prostrate,  my  knees  gave  way  and  I  dropped 
on  my  hands,  and  every  time  I  said  the  word  which  the  Lord 
put  in  my  mouth:  "  It  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every 
one  that  believeth,"  another  wave  of  power  came  upon  me.  Down 
I  went  again,  and  so  three  times,  before  I  got  home,  I  fell  under 
the  mighty  power  of  God.  Hallelujah!  It  is  to-day  the  same, 
"  The  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth," 
and  I  do  believe  God,  and  He  has  kept  me  saved  magnificently. 
Hallelujah  I  There  is  a  big  triumph  in  my  soul.  I  don't  know 
where  the  Devil  went,  but  I  heard  no  more  of  him  for  a  week, 
then  he  called  on  me  and  said,  "When  people  get  sanctified, 
everything  gets  better  around  them." 

"Yes,"  said  I." 

"Well,  you  see  James  is  not  any  better,  if  anything  he  is 
worse." 

That  was  true,  if  possible,  and  I  said  I  did  think  so  too,  and 
didn't  understand  it,  for  I  thought  he  would  be  glad  to  know  that 
I  had  got  more  religion. 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  You  have  no  witness  that  you  are  sancti- 
fied." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "  I  will  have  it,  God  helping  me,  right  now." 

It  was  Friday.  I  was  ironing;  I  set  down  my  iron  and  went 
and  told  Jesus.  I  said;  "Lord,  I  believe  Thou  hast  sanctified  my 
soul,  but  Satan  says  I  have  no  witness.  Now,  Lord,  I  don't  know 
what  to  ask  as  a  direct  witness  to  this  blessing,  but  give  me  some- 
thing that  shall  be  so  clear  and  distinct  that  the  Devil  will  never 
attack  me  again  on  that  point  while  I  live." 

After  a  short  prayer  I  waited  a  moment  in  silence,  and  said, 
■'Now,  Lord,  I  wait  till  Thou  shalt  speak  to  me  Thyself,"  and 
a  moment  passed  and  these  words  came:  "  Ask  for  the  conversion 
of  Miss  Chapel." 

I  said,  "Lord,  for  a  real  evidence  that  Thou' hast  sanctified 
my  soul,  I  ask  that  Thou  will  convert  Miss  Chapel  between  now 
and  Sunday  morning." 

In  a  moment  these  words  were  flashed  through  my  soul:     *'  If 


Amanda  Smith.  83 

thou  canst  believe  all  things  that  are  possible  to  him  thai 
believeth."  And  I  said,  "  Lord.  1  believe  Thou  will  do  it,"  and  a 
Hood  of  light  and  joy  filled  me.  Oh,  1  praise  the  Lord.  I  arosr 
from  my  knees  praising  God.  I  went  to  ironing;  after  a  little 
while,Satan  came  again. 

.  '•  You  ought  to  go  and  see  if  the  woman  is  converted  before 
you  are  so  sure." 

"  Well,  yes,  I  would  like  to  go,  but  then  it  is  two  miles  away, 
and  I  am  afraid  Will  might  wake  uit  and  cry." 

But  the  enemy  urged  me,  "  You  had  better  not  be  too  sure, 
you  ought  to  go  and  see,"  and  1  was  sorely  tempted.  I  lifted  my 
heart  to  God  in  prayer  and  said,  "Lord  help  me,  4  believe  that 
Thou  wilt  do  it,  and  I  will  trust  Thee."  Then  there  came  a  still 
hush  and  quiet  all  over  me  and  I  went  on  ironing  and  singing. 
Praise  the  Lord! 

Miss  Chapel,  referred  to,  was  a  very  nice  young  woman, 
though  not  a  Christian.  She  was  a  very  upright,  moral  person.  She 
was  taken  ill,  and  her  sister,  a  very  earnest  Christian,  was  very 
an.vious  about  her  state,  and  asked  me  and  others  to  come  and 
pray  with  her.  One  day  I  went,  and  met  Mother  Jones  and  several 
others.  We  sang  and  prayed  with  her  and  left  her.  And  now  a 
week  had  passed  and  I  had  not  heard  from  her,  and  T  had  thought 
that  was  why  the  enemy  attacked  me  so  fiercely  on  Friday.  Sun- 
day morning  came  and  I  had  persisted  in  believing  and  praising 
God,  according  to  His  word:  "  If  thou  canst  believe  all  things  are 
possible  to  him  that  believeth."  I  went  to  church,  and  as  1  sat  in 
my  pew  after  the  sermon  was  over,  and  the  collection  was  being 
taken  up,  Sister  Jones,  who  sat  in  the  opposite  pew,  got  up  and 
came  over  to  me,  and  said  "Smith,  Chapel  has  got  the  blessing." 
I  said,  "  Praise  the  Lord,  when  did  she  get  it? "  She  said.  "  Yes- 
terday afternoon."  Then  these  words  were  spoken  to  my  heart  in 
power:  "Now  that  is  your  evidence,"  and  1  said,  "O  Lord,  I  do 
thank  Thee,  Thou  hast  answered  my  prayer  and  given  methisdis- 
tinct  witness  that  Thou  hast  sanctified  my  soul." 

Many  times  since  then  my  faith  has  been  tried  sorely,  and  I 
have  had  much  to  contend  with,  and  the  fiery  darts  of  Satan 
at  times  have  been  sore,  but  he  has  never,  from  that  day,  had  the 
impudence  to  tell  me  that  God  had  not  done  this  blessed  work. 
Hallelujah!    what  a  Saviour! 

Everybody  does  not  have  direct  witness  to  their  sanctification 


84  Autobiography  op 

nor  to  their  justification  in  that  way,  but  it  is  their  privilege  to 
have  the  clear,  distinct  witness  of  the  Spirit  to  both  justification 
and  sanctification,  and,  as  a  rule,  persons  who  do  not  get  this  dis- 
tinct witness  are  unsettled  in  their  Christian  life,  often  waver  and 
falter,  and  are  more  easily  turned  aside  to  new  isms  and  doctrines; 
but,  thank  God,  He  has  kept  me  in  perfect  peace  while  my  mind 
has  been  stayed  on  Him  and  I  have  trusted  in  Him.  Praise  His 
name  forever ! 

James  did  not  come  home  for  two  weeks.  When  he  came  I 
sat  down  on  his  lap  and  put  my  arms  around  his  neck  and  told 
him  all  about  it.  He  listened  patiently.  When  I  got  through  he 
began  his  old  argument.  I  said,  "  Now,  my  dear,  you  know  I  can't 
argue." 

"O  well,"  he  said,  "  If  3'ou  have  got  something  you  can't  talk 
about,  I  don't  believe  in  it." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  have  told  you  all  I  can  and  T  cannot 
argue."  O,  how  he  tantalized  me  in  every  way,  but  God  kept  me 
so  still  in  my  soul,  and  my  poor  husband  was  so  annoyed  because 
I  would  not  argue.  I  knew  what  it  meant,  but  praise  God  He 
saved  me.     I  could  only  weep  and  pray. 

Shortly  after  I  was  converted,  I  was  deeply  convicted  for  the 
blessing  of  heart  purity;  and  if  T  had  had  any  one  to  instruct  me, 
I  can  see  how  I  might  have  entered  into  the  blessed  experience. 
But  not  having  proper  teaching,  like  Israel  of  old,  I  wandered  in 
the  wilderness  of  doubts  and  fears,  and  ups  and  downs,  for  twelve 
years;  and  but  for  the  Rev.  John  S.  Inskip's  having  the  experience 
himself,  and  preaching  that  memorable  Sunday  morning.  Septem- 
ber, 1868,  in  the  old  Green  Street  Church,  New  York,  in  all  proba- 
bility I  might  never  have  got  into  the  blessed  light  of  full  sal- 
vation. 

I  shall  ever  thank  God  that  the  evidence  of  my  acceptance 
with  Him  was  so  definite  and  clear  when  I  was  so  deeply  convicted 
for  the  blessing  of  heart  purity.  It  was  a  hard  struggle,  an^'how; 
but  if  this  point  had  not  been  settled  so  clearly  it  would  have  been 
much  worse  —  the  difference  between  the  two  convictions,  pardon 
and  purit}'.  When  I  was  convicted  for  sin  I  was  under  condemna- 
tion, and  felt  that  I  was  a  lost  and  wretched  sinner.  Now,  when 
God  in  mercy  had  pardoned  all  my  sins,  he  took  away  all  condem- 
nation and  gave  me  joy  and  peace  in  believing.     Hallelujah  I 

Now,  when  I  was  convicted  for  purity  or  sanctification,  it  was 


Ama.>da  Smith.  85 

a  deep  conviction  of  want — an  indtscribablf  want;  not  condem- 
nation. But,  oh!  that  deep  heart  want.  Like,  after  you  have 
eaten  a  good  hearty  breakfast,  and  have  worked  hard  all  day,  and 
get  very  hungry  for  your  dinner  or  supper.  Well,  my  heart  cried 
out  and  longed  as  one  that  "  Longeth  for  the  morning."  And  yet 
I  had  no  means,  no  words  to  express  just  what  I  wanted.  One  day 
a  friend  came  in  to  see  me.  I  was  then  living  at  Col.  S.  Mc(Jraw's, 
in  Lancaster.  She  was  quite  a  high-toned  colored  lady,  for  (every- 
one knew  the  Porter  family,  and  they  were  always  considered  one 
of  the  leading  families  among  the  colored  people.  The  father  was 
a  large  farmer  in  Kent  county,  and  the  sons  were  all  fine  young 
men,  and  pretty  well  educated,  as  was  also  the  daughter.  She  had 
been  a  school  teacher  for  many  3'ears,  but  was  now  married  to 
Rev.  Lewis  Hood,  who  was  pastor  of  the  Union  Church  in  Lancas- 
ter. So  I  thought  I  could  open  my  heart  to  her,  and  she  would  be 
able  to  help  me.  So  I  said  to  her,  "Sister  Hood,  I  don't  know 
what's  the  matter  with  me.  Somehow  I  feel  like  I  wanted  some- 
thing, but  I  can't  tell  just  what.  I  pray,  but  T  do  not  get  help  just 
as  I  want." 

■  "  Well,"  she  said,  "  What's  the  matter  with  you?    Aren't  you 
converted?  " 

"Oh!  yes,"  I  said,  "  It  isn't  that." 

"  Well,  haven't  you  got  the  witness  of  the  Spirit?" 

"Oh!  yes;  it  isn't  that." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  If  you  keep  on  you  will  be  crazy." 

Then  I  was  frightened,  and  said,  "Oh!  she  does  not  under- 
stand me;  and  now  if  she  tells  anybody  what  I  said  they  will  not 
understand  it,  and  will  think  I  have  backslidden;  and  here  I  am 
leading  class,  and  the  leader  of  the  female  prayer  meeting." 

So  as  soon  as  she  was  gone  I  ran  down  into  the  cellar  and  got 
down  on  my  knees,  and  asked  the  Lord  to  take  out  of  the  mind 
of  Si.ster  Hood  all  that  I  had  said,  so  she  would  not  repeat  it.  I 
was  in  sore  distress. 

Several  days  after  this  I  was  reading  my  Bible,  and  I  turned 
to  the  forty-second  Psalm,  first  verse,  "As  the  heart  panteth  after 
the  water  brook,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  the  living  God."  My 
heart  leaped.  "Oh!  "I  said,  "  That's  what  I  wanted  —  God!  Now 
if  anyone  asked  me  what  I  wanted,  as  Sister  Hood  did,  I  could  tell 
them  it  was  God  I  wanted."  The  more  I  read  my  Bible,  and 
fasted  and  prayed,  the  deeper  my  hunger  became.    One  day  I  went 


86  Autobiography  of 

to  George  James  —  I  generally  called  him  "  Father  James  " — he 
was  a  tall,  elderly  man,  very  dignified  in  manner,  but  was  kind. 
He  was  very  black,  his  hair  was  white,  and  he  was  a  leading  local 
preacher,  and  deacon  of  the  A.  M.  E.  Church,  in  Lancaster,  at 
that  time,  where  I  belonged.  So  I  went  to  him,  and  I  said: 
"Father  James,  I  have  been  reading  the  Bible  to-day,  and  I  see 
this:  'Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God.' 
What  does  that  mean?" 

"  You  know,"  he  said,  "  That  is  in  the  Bible  for  you  to  come 
as  near  to  it  as  you  can.  But  God  knows  you  never  can  be  *  pure 
in  heart.'  " 

Then  he  went  on  and  explained  to  me  in  his  way.  Of  course 
I  did  not  get  much  light.  And  the  Devil  said  to  me  as  I  went 
home  thinking  it  all  over,  "  You  are  seeking  after  something  that's 
not  for  you." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "People  do  have  this  blessing.  There  are 
Job  Morris,  and  Polly  Waters,  and  others,  and  they  say  they  are 
sanctified,  and  everybody  believes  them." 

"Oh!  but  they  are  almost  ready  to  die.  But  you  are  young, 
and  you  cannot  expect  to  have  what  they  have." 

"  Well,  perhaps  so,"  I  said. 

"Then,  you  know.  Father  James  said  that  the  Bible  did'not 
mean  that."  But  somehow  my  better  judgment  said  he  was 
wrong.  "  I  believe  what  the  Bible  sajs,  and  there  must  be  some 
way  that  this  grace  can  be  obtained,  or  God  never  would  have  left 
it  on  record."  But  how  to  get  hold  of  it  I  still  did  not  know.  I 
would  read  my  Bible,  and  pray,  and  pray  on.  No  light  —  only  the 
deep  hunger.  Of  course  I  had  comfort  in  doing  my  duty  — 
attending  my  class  meeting  and  prayer  meetings,  and  I  would  go 
about  and  pray  with  the  sick  and  dying,  and  work  in  revival 
meetings,  and  in  all  ways  I  could.  After  working  hard  all  day 
many  times  I  would  be  called  up  at  twelve  or  one  o'clock  at  night 
to  go  and  pray  with  somebody  that  was  sick  or  dying.  I  never 
refused  to  go,  rain  or  shine,  cold  or  warm;  I  felt  it  was  my  duty, 
and  I  was  always  glad  to  do  it.  Then  I  would  come  home, — 
sometimes  at  three  o'clock  —  and  have  but  very  little  sleep,  and 
up  and  off  to  work  again  next  morning,  when  I  did  not  have  work 
in  the  house.  My  meat  and  drink  was  to  see  souls  coming  to 
Christ.  I  had  no  fear  to  go  into  a  congregation  and  speak  to  men 
or  women,  young  or  old.     I  hardly  ever  went  for  persons  in  a 


Amanda  Smith.  87 

congregation,  in  time  of  extra  meetings,  but  wliut  ihcy  went  for- 
ward, and  many  of  them  were  converted.     Praise  (jod  foreverl 

And  yet  at  times  my  spirit  was  vascillatiiig.  Sometimes  higli 
on  the  mountain.  When  I  wouhl  tell  of  the  rapture  and  joy  I  felt, 
sometimes  the  older  brethren  and  sisters  would  say,  "  Ai».  child,  I 
was  that  way,  too,  when  I  first  got  converted;  but  you  wait  till  the 
Devil  shoots  a  few  bomb-shells  at  you  and  you  will  not  have  so 
much  joy."  Poor  me  I  I  tried  to  look  out  for  these  bomb-shells. 
Oh  I  why  didn't  they  tell  me  of  the  land  of  corn  and  wine  and  oil, 
and  that  the  God  of  Caleb  and  Joshua  was  able,  and  wcnild  bring 
me  in  if  I  would  only  trust  in  Him?  But,  dear  souls,  they  tlid  not 
know  it  themselves,  so  could  not  help  me.  So  one  day  I  felt  I 
must  go  and  talk  with  Father  James,  for  I  had  been  reading  the 
fourth  chapter  of  second  Thessalonians  and  third  ver.se,  "For 
this  is  the  will  of  God,  even  your  sanctification."  So  I  said, 
"  Father  James,  I  have  been  reading  the  Bible  to-day,  and  I  see 
this.  "     Then  I  quoted  the  text. 

"  Oh!  "  he  said, '"  my  child,  don't  you  know  when  people  die 
very  happy?" 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

"Well,  you  know,  God  does  not  sanctify  you  until  just  before 
you  are  ready  to  die.  Of  course  you  could  not  go  to  heaven  unless 
you  were  holy,  and  sanctification  makes  you  holy,  and  you  could 
not  live  in  this  sinful  world  if  you  were  holy.  So  if  you  were 
sanctified  you  would  die." 

"Yes,"  I  said.  "Well,  if  it  is  going  to  kill  me,  I  don't  want 
it.  I  don't  want  to  die.  The  Lord  has  done  a  great  deal  for  me. 
I  can  do  a  little  for  Him;  so  I  will  just  go  on  and  do  the  best  1 
can."     So  on  I  went. 

Some  time  after  this  I  was  reading  the  fifth  chapter  of  Mat- 
thew, and  when  I  got  to  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  verses  I  said, 
"My  experience  does  not  come  up  to  this:  "^Blessed  are  ye  when 
men  shall  revile  you  and  persecute  you,  and  shall  say  all  manner 
of  evil  against  you  falsely  for  my  sake.'  'Rejoice  and  be  exceed- 
ing glad,  for  great  is  your  reward  in  heaven.'  I  cannot  rejoice 
when  anyone  lies  on  me;  it's  no  use;  I  can't  do  it."  Then  came 
up  all  my  good  works.  "  I  go  to  church;  I  attend  to  all  my  duties; 
I  do  not  go  about  meddling  with  other  people's  affairs;  I  mind  my 
own  busine.ss;  and  wlien  anybody  says  anything  about  mt*  that  is 
not  true,  I  must  have  satisfaction.     I  am  not  going  to  stand  it."     1 


88  Autobiography  op 

had  not  read,  "  They  that  love  God  in  Christ  Jesus  shall  suffer  per- 
secution." But,  Oh!  haven't  I  learned  it  since  then.  One  day 
one  of  the  dearest  friends  I  had,  as  I  thought,  told  a  real  lie  on  me. 
It  made  quite  a  stir.  I  wondered  where  all  the  coolness  came 
about  in  different  directions,  but  did  not  know  the  real  cause.  So 
I  made  up  my  mind  I  would  go  and  ask  the  parties  what  the  mat- 
ter was.  So  I  got  down  and  prayed  that  the  Lord  would  give  me 
the  right  spirit,  and  not  let  me  get  vexed,  and  not  let  the  parties 
get  vexed,  and  make  them  tell  me  what  the  matter  was.  So  off  I 
started  a  little  after  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  walked  till 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  found  myself  about  as 
near  the  truth  when  I  stopped  as  when  I  started.  The  first  place 
I  called  I  said  to  the  friend,  calling  her  by  name,  "  I  hear  so  and 
so;  I  came  to  ask  you  what  about  it?  " 

"  All  I  know,"  she  replied,  "is  what  John  B.  said  that  Mary 
S.  said  that  you  said  that  I  said  that  she  said,"  and  so  on. 

Well,  I  went  to  the  next  parties.  They  said  the  same  thing: 
"Well,  all  I  know  about  it  is  Ann  So  and  So  said  that  you  said 
that  she  said  .that  I  said  that  they  said,"  etc.  I  went  the  round, 
then  started  home,  so  ashamed  and  disgusted.  As  soon  as  I  got 
home  I  took  off  my  wraps,  went  down  into  the  cellar  and  got  down 
on  my  knees,  where  I  always  went  to  settle  hard  difficulties,  and  I 
said,  "Oh!  Lord,  if  you  will  help  me,  I  will  never,  while  I  live,  go 
after  another  lie."  And  thank  God  I  never  have,  though  some- 
times I  have  been  tempted;  but  the  Lord  has  always  delivered  me. 
Praise  His  dear  name!     Amen. 

Some  months  after  this  I  got  interested  in  the  subject  of 
baptism,  and  I  thought  if  I  were  immersed  it  would  help  me  to 
see  the  way  better.  So  I  went  to  Father  James  and  told  him  I 
would  like  to  be  immersed.  My  father  and  mother  had  all  of  us 
children  baptized,  as  the  discipline  of  the  Methodist  Church 
required;  but  I  thought  if  I  could  answer  for  myself  it  would  be 
better  Then  if  I  came  up  to  all  that  the  Bible  said  as  far  as  I 
knew,  the  Lord  would  be  obliged  to  give  me  the  great  blessing  I 
sought.  Father  James  did  not  discourage  me  in  this,  but  rather 
was  favorable.  So  this  helped  me  to  think  that  I  w^as  on  the  right 
track  now.  There  were  four  or  five  others  who  wanted  to  be 
immersed  also;  so  I  went  around  to  see  them,  and  it  was  decided 
to  send  to  Philadelphia  for  a  good  brother  and  local  preacher  in 
the  African  Methodist  Church,  a  sanctified  man  named  Brother 


Amanda  Smith.  89 

.7on«\s.  Somi  years  before  there  was  a  j^'reat  revival  in  Columbia, 
and  some  six  or  eight  of  the  converts  wanted  to  be  bapli/ed.  iSo 
they  sent  to  Philadelphia  and  j,'ot  Rev.  Bob  Collins,  who  was  a 
powerful  preacher  in  his  day,  and  a  leading?  minister  in  the  A.  M. 
E.  Church.  It  was  in  the  dead  of  winter.  Th*'  Susquehanna 
river  was  frozen  over,  and  they  cut  the  ice,  and  Brother  Collins 
baptized  ei«?ht,  I  think  it  was.  And  they  shouted  and  sang. 
They  sttxxl  on  the  shore  and  all  around  on  the  ice  by  hundreds. 
It  was  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Oh:  what  a  time!  Of  course 
all  the  Baptists  believed  in  that,  and  they  were  out,  and  rejoiced 
with  them  that  did  rejoice.  Our  minister  at  that  time^was  Key. 
Sanford.  His  wife's  sister,  Henney  Johnson,  had  been  very  sick, 
and  she  had  got  converted.  But  she  leaned  toward  the  Baptists. 
So  to  save  her  to  her  church,  she  was  baptized  that  Sunday,  and 
she  got  well  after  that,  which  was  a  great  wonder  to  many.  Sister 
Harriet  N.  Baker  was  one  of  the  strong  members  in  the  church. 
She  was  baptized  the  same  Sunday  morning.  Lancaster  was  only 
twelve  miles  from  Columbia,  so  that  we  in  Lancaster  got  water 
struck!  For  most  all  the  colored  people  in  Lancaster  would  go  to 
Columbia  to  quarterly  meeting.  Oh!  how  I  have  seen  the  [Kiwer 
of  God  displayed  in  the  salvation  of  souls.  What  men  and  women 
they  were  to  pray  in  those  days.  How  I  remember  Candes  Watson, 
Sarah  Henderson,  Chris  Stokes,  Simon  Morris,  John  Morris,  Jake 
Snively,  and  a  host  of  others.  How  they  come  before  me  now,  as  I 
think  it  all  over.  But  all  these  have  gone,  though  it  seems  but  as 
yesterday. 

But  to  return  to  my  story.  After  I  had  seen  the  parties 
I  went  to  Father  James  and  asked  him  to  write  to  Brotht-r  Jones 
and  find  out  what  the  cost  would  be.  He  replied  that  we  were  to 
pay  him  twenty  dollars  and  his  traveling  expenses  from  Philadel- 
phia and  back.  I  was  willing  to  pay  him  a  month's  wages,  which 
was  six  dollars,  if  the  others  would  make  up  the  balance.  So  they 
were  to  try.  A  few  weeks  passed,  then  one  of  the  leading  ones  in 
the  number,  Sister  Maxwell,  was  taken  sick,  and  her  husband 
would  not  let  her  go  into  the  water.  Brother  Williams  went  away. 
I  had  got  my  dress  ready,  but  the  others  all  backed  out.  Tli«ii 
Father  James  was  taken  sick.  So  he  said  that  March  was  a  ba<l 
month  to  go  into  the  water,  so  if  I  would  wait  until  April  or  Ma\ 
he  would  perform  the  ceremony.  But  alas!  Poor  man!  About 
the  first  of  April  I  stood  by  his  bedside  and  saw  him  dif,  an<l 
heard  his  last  words. 


90  Autobiography  op 

It  was  Sunday  evening,  and  after  I  had  come  from  church  I 
went  to  sit  with  Sister  James,  his  wife.  It  was  about  half  past 
ten  or  eleven  o'clock  p.  m.,  and  the  old  man  seemed  to  be  sleeping 
quietly.  All  at  once  he  roused  up  and  coughed  and  made  a  noise 
as  though  something  was  in  his  throat.  I  said,  "Father  James, 
what  is  the  matter?     Do  you  want  a  drink  of  water?  " 

"No,"  he  said,  "there  seemed  to  be  a  big  black  man  stand- 
ing by  me  running  red  hot  irons  down  my  throat." 

Oh!  how  disappointed  I  was.  For  I  wanted  him  to  get  sancti- 
fied a  few  minutes  before  he  died,  as  he  had  taught  me.  But  now 
all  was  over,  and  I  had  no  one  to  go  and  talk  to,  but  must  wander 
on  in  darkness.     Not  a  ray  of  light  could  I  see. 

After  a  year  or  two  I  went  to  Philadelphia.  There  I  was  mar- 
ried to  my  second  husband,  James  Smith.  Then  I  had  given  up 
seeking  the  blessing  definitely,  and  so  went  on.  Several  years  later 
on,  we  moved  to  New  York;  and,  after  many  more  trials,  that  I 
have  already  referred  to,  I  was  deeply  convicted  again  for  the  need 
of  heart  purity.  And  again  I  began  to  seek  it  by  works.  I  read 
in  the  Bible,  "If  I,  your  Lord  and  Master,  wash  your  feet,  ye 
ought  also  to  wash  one  another's  feet,"  John,  13:15.  There  were 
four  of  us  sisters  who  had  united  in  a  band  to  pray  for  mutual 
help  to  each  other;  Sister  Scott,  Sister  Bangs,  Sister  Brown,  and 
myself.  I  told  them  what  the  Bible  said  about  it,  and  they  all 
agreed.  I  did  not  tell  them  I  was  seeking  the  blessing  of  holi- 
ness. I  was  afraid  they  might  say  something  to  turn  me  aside, 
and  I  was  so  hungry.  So  I  got  read}^  and  I  thought  as  there  were 
only  four  of  us,  and  we  were  trying  to  help  each  other,  that  it 
would  be  right  for  all  four  of  us  to  be  together  at  this  time.  But 
now  I  praise  the  Lord  that  He  did  not  allow  this  to  come  to  pass, 
though  I  did  not  know  then  that  He  was  hindering  them,  as  I  do 
now.  I  was  the  only  one  that  had  a  small  baby.  Sister  Bangs 
and  Sister  Brown  had  no  families,  and  Sister  Scott's  children  were 
all  grown.  So  I  had  them  come  and  meet  at  my  house  every  Mon- 
day afternoon.  Sister  Scott  always  came.  Sister  Bangs  would  be 
there  one  afternoon,  and  Sister  Brown  would  not  be  there.  Then 
when  Sister  Brown  was  there,  Sister  Bangs  wouldn't  be  there.  So 
they  were  never  all  there  at  once.  Still  I  held  on  and  thought  it 
was  best  not  to  have  this  feet-washing  done  unless  we  were  all 
together.  So  I  told  the  sisters  and  they  agreed  with  me  that  the 
four,  ough  t  to  be  together.     We  did  not  try  to  get  up  a  society  of 


Amanda  Smith.  91 

tins  kind,  but  just  wr  lour  uiiit<(l  r<»i-  ourowii  mutual  hrlp.  After 
IhriM'  or  four  woeks  w«'iit  on,  iiiul  we  w«'rt'  (b-fratcd  every  timo,  I 
dt'cided  not  to  do  it.  1  prayed  about  it,  and  it  seemed  to  come  to 
me  that  I  was  not  to  do  H.  So  that  is  how  the  Lord  saved  me 
from  the  mistake  of  seeking  salvation  by  works.  How  I  ever  praise 
Him  for  His  loving  kindness,  and  for  His  tender  mercy,  and  for 
His  great  patience  and  forbearance  with  me.  I  see  now  that  if  I 
had  not  been  hindered  as  \  was,  that  I  should  have  gone  about 
teaching  that  immersion,  and  the  washing  of  feet,  were  necessary 
in  order  to  be  sanctified,  which  would  have  been  a  great  mistake, 
but  the  Lord  saved  me  from  it.     Praise  His  name.     Amen; 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

MY  FIRST  TEMPTATION,  AND  OTHER  EXPERIENCES  —  I  GO  TO  NEW 
UTRECHT  TO  SEE  MY  HUSBAND  —  A  LITTLE  EXPERIENCE  AT 
BEDFORD  STREET    CHURCH,    NEW  YORK  —  FAITH   HEALING. 

For  about  three  weeks  after  God  had  sanctified  my  soul,  he 
seemed  to  let  me  walk  above  the  world. 

"  I  then  rode  on  the  sky, 
Freely  justified  I, 
Nor  did  envy  Elijah  his  seat. 
My  glad  soul  mounted  higher, 
In  a  chariot  of  fire, 
And  the  moon  it  was  under  my  feet. 
I  could  not  believe 
That  I  ever  should  grieve, 
That  I  ever  should  suffer  again." 

But  the  Lord  knew  I  must  be  disciplined  for  service.  He 
began  by  degrees  to  let  me  down,  and  the  tempter  seemed  to  be  let 
loose  upon  me.  I  have  said  the  Devil  turned  his  hose  on  me,  for  it 
was  as  though  a  man  was  washing  a  sidewalk  or  carriage,  Satan 
seemed  to  come  at  me  in  various  ways,  in  such  power.  I  settled 
down  in  God,  I  got  where  I  could  not  make  a  single  effort  to  pray 
or  do  anything.  I  was  helpless  —  I  could  not  get  out  of  the  way. 
Oh,  what  temptations!  So  I  said,  "Well,  fire  away,  but  I  will  trust 
in  God,  though  he  slay  me."  It  was  dark,  but  it  was  not  long 
till  light  broke  in  and  drove  the  darkness  all  away. 

Wh}'  does  God  permit  these  fierce  temptations/  It  is,  I  be- 
lieve, first,  to  develop  the  strength  and  muscle  of  your  own  soul 
and  so  prepare  you  for  greater  service,  and  second,  to  bring  you 
into  sympathy  with  others,  that  are  often  sorely  tempted  after 
they  are  sanctified,  so  that  you    can  help  them.     For  example: 

(93) 


Amanda  Smith.  93 

After  tho  dnvulful  tcmptiitioii  I  hiivc  siK)krii  of  I  nut  two  persons 
that  wrrc  sutTcring  from  the  assaults  of  th«'  old  Accuser,  as  I  had. 
One  was  at  Sea  Clilf,  the  oilier  at  Chester  Heights  Cami)  Meeting. 
The  lady  at  Sea  CMilT  was  a  vt-ry  interesting,  intelligent  lady.  She 
was  Assistant  Superintendent  of  a  Sabbath  School,  as  well  as  a 
schcx)l  teacher.  She  had  a  large  Bible  class  of  young  persons  and 
had  great  influence  with  them,  and  with  the  church,  where  she 
was  a  member.  She  came  from  Greenpoint  or  Williamsburg.  I 
don't  remember  which.  She  had  sought  and  found  the  great 
blessing  of  full  salvation,  and  had  walked  in  the  blessed  light  and 
comfort  of  it  for  over  a  year,  and  was  very  helpful  to  many  of  her 
friends,  and,  especially,  to  her  large  Hible  class  of  young  people,  a 
number  of  whom  had  bfeen  led  to  consecrate  themselves  fully  to 
the  Lord,  and  had  come  out  into  the  clear  light  of  this  experience 
of  perfect  love  through  her  instrumentality.  Of  course  Satan  would 
hinder  her  from  such  a  work  as  that,  so  he  cast  a  heavy  black 
cloud  over  her  soul,  and  she  was  in  dreadful  darkness  for  three 
months.  She  went  over  and  over  her  consecration  to  see  if  she 
had  taken  anything  back  in  any  way.  No,  she  knew  she  had  been 
true  up  to  all  the  light  God  had  given  her,  still  Satan  accused  her 
and  told  her  there  was  something  wrong  or  she  would  not  have 
this  cloud  hanging  over  her.  She  was  afraid  to  tell  her  young 
believers  for  fear  she  would  discourage  them,  so  she  had  to  go  on 
with  her  work  testifying  definitely  to  what  God  had  done  for  her, 
but  only  held  on  by  naked  faith.  Many  times  after  she  would  get 
home  from  meetings  she  would  spend  hours  in  her  room  weeping 
and  praying  before  the  Lord,  but  no  help  came.  The  tempter 
would  assail  her  as  being  a  hypocrite  and  testifying  to  what  she 
did  not  feel  in  her  heart,  but  God  helped  her  to  stick  to  her  facts. 
She  had  given  herself  to  the  Lord,  and  she  was  His,  darkness  or 
light,  joy  or  no  joy,  it  did  not  alter  the  fact,  and  she  decided  to 
declare  it.  "When  she  came  to  Sea  Cliflf  in  this  state  of  mind  she 
was  obedient.  She  would  testify  and  tell  just  her  state,  then  she 
came  forward  for  help.  As  she  would  tell  her  sad  story  she  would 
weep  bitterly;  then  different  ones  would  try  and  tell  her  what  to 
do,  and  she  said  I  am  willing  to  do  anything;  so  one  and  an<)ther 
would  say  do  this  or  that;  then  she  was  asked  to  come  forward. 
She  would  be  the  first  one  to  go  and  kneel  to  get  hell)  and  light. 
Everybody  seemed  to  be  in  great  sympathy  with  her  and  tried  to 
help  her.     I  saw  where  she  was  and  knew  she  was  under  a  temp 


94  Autobiography  of 

tation  of  tho  Devil,  but  T  was  a  colored  woman,  I  did  not  like  to 
push  myself  forward.  I  heard  this  young  woman's  story  for  three 
days,  so  I  used  to  pray  for  her,  but  never  got  a  chance  to  speak  to 
her.  One  morning  Sister  Inskip  was  leading  a  young  people's 
meeting  in  a  tent  on  the  upper  part  of  the  ground.  I  slipped  in 
and  sat  down  on  one  of  the  outer  seats.  I  see  now  why  the  Lord 
seated  me  there.  The  tent  filled  up,  and  Sister  Inskip  talked  and 
then  asked  others  to  speak.  Again  this  dear  young  lady  got  up, 
and  said  she  had  got  what  she  came  for,  she  had  got  some  help, 
but  she  had  to  go  home  that  day,  and  she  would  rather  die  than 
go  home  as  she  was.  Mrs.  Inskip  said,  "Well,  just  give  yourself 
to  the  Lord." 

"Oh,"  I  thought,  over  and  over,  "why  don't  she  tell  her  to 
shout." 

No  one  ever  had  intimated  that  it  was  a  temptation  from 
Satan.  When  they  went  to  kneel  down  this  young  woman  knelt 
right  in  front  of  me  so  that  I  did  not  have  to  move  from  the  seat  I 
had  taken,  and,  while  Mrs.  Inskip  was  speaking  and  helping 
others,  I  leaned  forward  and  said  to  this  lady,  "  That  is  a  tempta- 
tion of  the  Devil;  you  praise  the  Lord  and  he  will  bring  3'ou  out." 

She  looked  up,  and  through  her  blinding  tears,  said,  "Oh, 
Amanda  Smith,  were  you  ever  so  since  you  were  sanctified? " 

"Yes,  my  child,  I  was.  I  was  shut  up  in  prison  for  three 
weeks  and  only  just  got  out  the  other  day." 

"Oh,"  she  said,  " I  see  it.  Now  Satan  has  been  telling  me 
that  sanctified  people  never  had  a  cloud." 

"Don't  you  mind  him,"  I  said,  "Praise  the  Lord." 

"Glory  to  Jesus!"  She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  cried,  "  I  have 
got  the  victory,  I  am  saved,  I  can  go  home,  Jesus  has  set  me  free, 
O,  Praise  the  Lord." 

"Whom  the  Son  makes  free  is  free  indeed."     Hallelujah! 
.   Then  I  saw  that  my  experience  in  the  weeks  before,  had  been 
made  a  blessing  to  her,  just  as  Job's  experience  was  intended   to 
be  a  blessing  to  men  and  women  through  all  coming  time. 

I  went  to  New  Utrecht,  to  Mr.  Roberts',  to  see  my  husband, 
James  Smith.  His  son-in-law,  John  Bentley,  was  there  when  I 
went.  Whatever  had  gone  before,  I  do  not  know.  I  knew  this 
young  man.  He  had  been  at  my  house  in  New  York.  I  had 
treated  him  well,  and  had  done  my  very  best  for  him,  and  his  wife 
also.     But  that  day  he  cursed  me,  and  told  me  I  had  no  business 


Amanda  SMixn. 


95 


th.Ti'.  1  Ihou-lil  11  w;isstrau-r  h.>  should  lalk  so  to  m.-,  and  I 
believe  he  incurred  the  Uisph-asure  of  Ciod,  as  did  Elymas,  the 
sorcerer,  who  withstood  Paul  and  sought  to  turn  away  from  the 
faith  Sergius  Paulus,  a  prudent  man  who  had  called  for  Barnabas 
and  Saul,  and  desired  to  hear  the  word  of  God.  Hut  this  man 
witiistood  them.  Hut  Paul,  b.'ing  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  set  his 
eves  on  him,  and  said:  "Oh!  full  of  all  subtilty  and  mischief, 
thou  child  of  the  Devil,  thou  enemy  of  all  righteousn<'SS,  wilt  thou 
not  yet  cease  to  pervert  the  right  ways  of  the  Lord?  And  now, 
behold!  the  hand  of  the  Lord  is  upon  thee.  Thou  shalt  br  blind, 
not  seeing  the  sun  for  a  season."  "  And  immediately  there  f.-U  on 
him  a  mist  and  darkness,  and  he  went  about  seeking  some  one  to 
lead  him  by  the  hand,"  (Acts  13:8-12.)  So,  that  day  in  New 
Utrecht,  John  BentU-y  came  in,  as  I  was  in  the  next  room  talking 
with  James,  my  husband.  I  had  gone  over  to  see  him.  My  rent 
was  due,  and  he  had  not  been  over  for  two  weeks,  and  had  not 
sent  me  any  money.  I  was  not  well,  and  my  baby  was  sick,  and  I 
was  insisting  that  James  should  give  me  some  money,  at  least 
the  sixty  cents  that  it  cost  me  to  come  over  from  New  York.  But 
he  would  not.  I  was  crying  and  talking,  for  my  heart  was  almost 
broken.  So,  when  John  Bentley  cursed  and  swore  at  me,  I  turned 
to  him  quietly,  and  said:  "Why,  John  Bentley,  haven't  I  a  right 
to  come  where  my  own  husband  is?"  But  he  was  fierce.  I  did 
not  know  but  he  was  going  to  strike  me.  But  I  went  up  to  him 
and  looked  him  in  the  face,  and  said  to  him:  "When  you  have 
been  at  my  house,  haven't  I  always  treated  you  w.'ll?'  I  have 
never  laid  a  straw  in  your  way  in  my  life;  and  I  don't  know  why 
you  should  speak  to  me  in  such  a  way." 

He  went  on  talking  and  abusing  me  terribly.  There  seemed 
to  come  an  indescribable  power  over  me,  and  I  turned  and  lifted 
my  hand  toward  him,  and  I  said  to  him:  "  Mind,  John  Bentley,  the 
God  that  I  serve  will  make  you  pay  for  this  before  the  year  is  out." 

He  said:   "Well,  I  don't  care  if  He  does.     Let  Him  do  it." 

He  had  not  more  than  said  the  words  when  he  seemed  to 
tremble  and  stagger.  There  was  a  chair  behind  him,  and  he 
dropped  down  into  the  chair.  1  never  saw  him  from  that  day. 
This  was  about  two  weeks  before  Christmas,  and  before  the  New 
Year  came,  John  Bentley  was  dead  and  buried! 

I  always  feel  sad  when  I  think  of  it,  but  I  believe  that  God 
was  displeased  with  that  man  for  cursing  me  that  day. 


96  Autobiography  of 

My  husband,  Jamos  Smith,  was  formerly  of  Baltimore,  Md. 
He  was  for  many  years  a  leader  of  the  choir  of  Bethel  A.  M.  E, 
Church,  in  that  city.  Afterward  he  moved  to  Philadelphia,  and 
was  ordained  deacon  in  the  A.  M.  E.  Church.  He  died  in 
November,  1869,  at  New  Utrecht,  N.  Y.  Since  then  I  have  been  a 
widow,  and  have  traveled  half  way  round  the  world,  and  God  has 
ever  been  faithful.  He  has  never  left  me  a  moment;  but  in  all 
these  years  I  have  proved  the  word  true,  *'Lo!  I  am  with  you 
always,  even  to  the  end." 

"Sometimes  'mid  scenes  of  deepest  gloom, 
Sometimes  where  Eden's  bowers  bloom, 
By  waters  still,  or  troubled  sea. 
Still,  'tis  my  God  that  leadeth  me." 

Amen.     Amen. 

i  had  told  the  Lord  I  would  be  obedient  and  would  do  all  he 
bade  me,  so  one  day  while  I  was  busy  at  work  it  was  whispered  to 
my  heart,  "  You  go  to  Bedford  Street  on  Sunday." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  will."  I  always  liked  to  go  and  hear  Rev. 
John  Cookman,  who  was  then  pastor.  Sunday  morning  came;  it 
was  Easter  Sunday.  My  friend,  Sister  Scott,  and  I  went.  Strange 
to  say,  but  the  usher  took  us  up  front,  in  what  is  or  used  to  be 
called  "The  Amen  Corner."  I  shall  never  forget  John  Cookman's 
text  and  sermon.  The  words  were:  "See  that  ye  make  all  things 
after  the  pattern  shown  you  in  the  Mount." 

O,  what  a  congregation,  and  what  power  the  young  man 
seemed  to  have  in  those  days.  He  brought  out  holiness  so  clear 
and  definite.  I  had  got  wonderfully'  blest  as  they  sang  the  old 
Easter  Anthem,  as  only  Bedford  Street  could  sing  it  in  those 
days.  O,  how  it  thrills  me  now  as  I  think  it  all  over!  As  Brother 
Cookman  went  on  with  his  sermon,  increasing  in  fervor  and  power, 
the  Spirit  whispered  to  me  distinctly,  "Raise  up  your  right 
hand,"  and  I  was  just  going  to  do  so,  when  the  Devil  said,  just  as 
distinctly,  "Yes,  you  look  nice  lifting  up  your  black  hand  before 
all  the  people  " — and  I  drew  back  and  did  not  do  it. 

Then  the  Spirit  said:  "The  other  day  you  told  the  Lord  you 
would  do  anything  He  would  tell  you  to  do." 

"O,  yes,"  I  said,  "I  did.  O,  Lord,  forgive  me  and  give  me 
another  chance  and  I  will  lifi  my  hand  for  Thee! " 

By-and-by  the  Spirit  said  again,  "Lift  up  your  right  hand," 


Amanda  Smith.  9'7 

and  1  aid,  :iiKl  tht>  powrr  of  tli.-  Spini  f.ll  on  th.-  people  and  the 
wholf  cou-ro-:itic.ii.  Tlu-iv  w.-re  "Amrns,"  and  "Aniens,"  and 
subs  and  wtH-pin-  and  "  I'ralse  the  Lord,"  lu-ard  all  over  the  house, 
and  manv  w.to  U-d  out  of  i)rison  by  th.'  simi.k-  act  of  obt'dirnc  to 
God.  He  did  not  toll  mc-  to  shout,  but  lu  lift  my  hand  for  Him, 
and. the  people  shouted,  and  my  own  h.art  tlu-n  lilled  wilii  ador- 
ing praise.  O,  I  would  Ciod  1  had  alwaysobi-yed  Him.  thm  would 
my  peace  have  llowed  as  the  river,  but  many  timts  I  failed.  Once 
on  the  car  coming  from  New  Utrecht,  where  I  had  gone  to  see  my 
husband,  1  had  a  tract  in  my  hand  with  a  message  for  a  lad  that 
got  in.  I  saw  him  look  at  me,  and  then  turn  quickly  away  as  it 
he  was  afraid  I  would  hand  it  to  him.  My  heart  was  i)rompted  to 
give  it  to  him,  but  I  kept  hesitating.  First,  1  said,  *'  1  will  wait 
till  some  of  the  people  get  out."  Then,  I  said,  "  1  will  wait  till  I 
get  out."  The  car  stopped,  the  lad  got  out  and  ran  away  as 
though  I  was  after  him.  I  looked  after  him  and  wanted  to  call 
him,  but  he  was  gone.  Then  these  words  came  to  me  in  such 
force  that  I  have  never  forgotten  them,  "  His  blood  will  I  require 
at  vour  hand."  I  did  nothing  but  pray  to  God  for  His  pardoning 
and  forgiving  mercy  from  that  hour  till  I  got  home;  at  last,  I  felt 
He  forgave  me  and  gave  me  peace  in  my  heart. 

Here  I  desire  to  record  some  things  the  Lord  taught  me  about 
what  is  now  called  faith,  or  divine  healing. 

I  think  it  was  in  October,  18G8,  not  very  long  after  I  had  got 
the  blessing  of  sanctification.  It  seemed  that  my  faith  had 
increased  and  strengthened  in  this  short  time,  so  that  I  did  not 
seem  to  find  it  difficult  to  believe  God  for  anything  I  really  need.-d. 
I  had  never  heard  of  Dr.  Cullis,  Dr.  Bordman,  or  Dr.  Mahan,  of 
Oberlin,  Ohio.  I  had  never  lead  a  book  or  i)aper  of  any  kind.  1 
believi'd  what  I  read  in  the  Bible  about  the  miracles  performed  by 
the  Lord  Jesus,  opening  the  eyes  of  the  blind,  unstopping  the  ears 
of  the  deaf,  and  healing  the  sick,  but  thought  it  belong.-d  lo  th.' 
days  of  miracles  especially,  and  it  was  to  prove  to  the  unbrli.'vin- 
Jews  the  Divinity  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I  had  often  i)ray.'d 
for  sick  people,  and  asked  the  Lord  to  bless  means  that  were  used, 
and  so  many  times  He  did  it,  as  I  believe  in  answer  to  prayer; 
but  I  never  made  any  time  about  it,  as  though  it  were  some  espe- 
cial state  of  grace,  so  much  higher  than  entire  sanctification  or 
holiness.  So  I  went  un  claiming  i)romises.  qu.-nching  the  violence 
of  fire,  .-scaping  the  edge  of  th.-  sword,  out  of  w.-akn.-ss  was  made 


D8  Autobiography  of 

strong,  waxing  valiant  in  fight,  and  reallj'  turning  to  tiight  the 
armies  of  the  aliens.  And  so  found  out  that  there  is  no  want  to 
them  that  fear  the  Lord.  But  I  did  not  feel  led  to  make  a  special 
gospel  of  the  great  and  deep  things  God  had  taught  me.  The 
Gospel  of  Jesus  was  so  full  and  practical,  and  with  good,  common 
sense  it  seemed  to  cover  all  my  need.  Praise  the  Lord  for  that 
lesson.  For  I  find,  no  matter  what  the  state  of  grace  attained  to 
in  this  life,  one  may  ever  learn  some  new  lesson.  Learn  to  know 
one's  own  self.  Learn  to  know  one's  weakness.  Learn  to  know 
the  beauty  of  love  and  power  and  sympathy  of  Jesus  Christ,  our 
Lord  and  Savior.     And  so  on. 

It  was  Saturday.  I  was  very  busy,  as  that  is  a  busy  day, 
especially  with  a  washwoman.  After  T  had  swept  my  room  I  gave 
the  dustpan  to  Mazie  to  carry  out  to  the  ash  box  that  stood  on  the 
sidewalk.  It  was  when  I  lived  in  the  rear  at  135  Amity  street, 
New  York.  When  she  came  in,  she  said,  "O,  ma,  someone  has 
thrown  a  lot  of  nice  books  into  the  ash  box;  some  of  them  are  almost 
new."  She  was  very  fond  of  reading,  so  she  said,  "May  I  bring 
some  in?" 

**0h,  no,"  I  said,  "Mazie;  I  have  little  enough  room  now,  and 
I  do  not  want  any  old  books  or  trash  brought  in."  But  contrary- 
to  my  orders,  the  child  slipped  three  of  these  books  into  the  house, 
and  hid  tliL'm  in  the  little  closet  on  the  shelf  behind  the  smooth- 
ing irons.  In  the  bottom  of  this  closet,  on  the  floor,  I  kept  mj' 
coal.  I  could  put  in  about  two  pailfuls,  which  was  about  a  half 
bushel,  at  a  time.  So  on  Monday  morning  after  prayers,  Mazie 
had  gone  to  school,  I  went  to  put  some  coal  in  the  stove  and  then 
was  going  to  gather  my  clothes.  But  I  noticed  that  my  irons 
were  not  back  on  the  shelf  in  their  place  properly.  So  I  went  to 
arrange  them,  and  found  these  books. 

"  There,"  I  said,  "  I  told  Mazie  not  to  bring  any  of  these  books 
in;  she  has  not  obe^'ed  me."  But  as  I  looked  at  them  I  said, 
"Perhaps  I  should  not  have  told  her  'no'  until  I  saw  them;  for 
they  really  are  almost  new."  I  don't  remember  what  the  two 
were,  but  the  third  was  a  small-sized  book,  entitled,  "Child's 
Book  on  Physiology."  So  I  began  to  read  it.  I  looked  through  it. 
As  I  read  on,  its  explanations,  simple  and  so  beautiful,  of  the 
human  body  in  all  its  parts,  in  a  wa}'  that  any  child  could  under- 
stand it,  I  got  so  interested  that  I  sat  down,  though  I  was  in  such 
a  hurry.     After  reading  and  thinking,  I  turned  to  the  first  page. 


Amanda  Smith.  99 

There  was  a  cut  of  the  human  frame  on  the  tiy  leaf.  As  I  looked 
at  it  and  studied  it,  1  said,  "Surely,  as  the  Psalmist  says,  '  Man  is 
fearfully  and  wonderfully  made.'"  Now,  in  my  inia^'inatit.n.  1 
covered  that  frame  with  tlesh,  and  skin,  and  sinew,  and  bl(H)d, 
and  i)ulse,  and  life.  Then  I  got  a  pain,  or  rheumatism,  in  tin-  left 
arm  or  back;  and  I  said,  "Now,  there  is  a  man  suffering  pain  in 
his  arm  and  back.  I  give  him  medicine  in  his  mouth,  and  it 
must  go  all  this  round  to  reach  that  spot;  when  God,  who  made 
him,  knows  how  to  reach  the  difficulty  direct."  Now,  all  this 
was  as  I  imagined.  There  was  not  a  soul  in  the  house  but  myself. 
So  I  said,  lifting  my  eyes  to  heaven,  "Oh!  Lord,  I  will  never  take 
another  bit  of  medicine  while  I  live  without  you  tell  me  to."  And 
I  got  up  and  threw  out  all  my  medicines— I  had  a  few  simple 
remedies  in  the  house  — and  for  a  year  and  eight  months  I  never 
touched  anything.  Oh!  what  wonderful  lessons  the  Lord  taught 
me  in  that  time.  It  did  seem  that  He  watched  as  a  father  would 
watch  his  child.  Sometimes  I  would  bring  in  a  basket  of  clothes, 
and  it  would  be  so  warm  I  would  sit  down  between  the  window 
and  doors  so  as  to  get  the  breeze  quickly,  and  I  would  hear  the 
Spirit  whisper,  as  distinctly  as  a  man,  so  gently,  but  clearly: 
"  You  are  sitting  in  the  draught."  Often  I  have  looked  around  to 
see  if  there  was  not  really  a  person  speaking.  If  I  was  prompt  and 
moved,  it  was  all  right.  But  sometimes  I  would  say,  when  the 
whisper  came,  "Oh,  yes,  but  I'm  so  warm;  "  and  I  would  forget, 
until  I  would  feel  a  pain  in  my  back,  or  neck,  or  somewhere. 
Then  I  would  at  once  look  up  to  God  and  say,  "Now,  Lord,  teach 
me  the  lesson  you  want  I  should  learn;  and  then^do  please  relieve 
me  of  this  pain."  Can  you  understand  the  patience  and  forbear- 
ance of  God?  I  cannot.  Sometimes  He  would  bless  me  so;  I 
would  be  so  happy,  I  would  whirl  round  and  round  and  laugh  and 
say,  "Oh!  Lord,  how  beautiful.  I  will  never  have  to  take  any 
more  medicine,  and  I  can  save  the  money  that  I  spent  for  medi- 
cine for  other  purposes."  But  the  Lord  knew  how  to  teach  me, 
imiised  be  His  name.  So  at  the  expiration  of  a  year  and  eight 
months,  it  was  in  November,  I  think,  I  took  a  severe  cold.  1 
never  knew  how  I  got  that  cold,  and  if  the  grippe  had  been  known 
then,  as  now,  I  would  have  said  I  had  it  in  its  severest  form.  I 
never  thought  of  medicine.  The  Lord  wasmy  physician,  and  had 
done  everything  I  had  asked  for  myself  and  my  child  for  a  year 
and  eight  months,  so  of  course  He  would  now.     So  1  prayed  us 


100  Autobiography  op 

aforetime,  but  still  grew  worse.  Oh!  how  dreadfully  ill  I  was. 
But  I  held  on.  Oh!  how  I  did  cry  to  God  for  deliverance.  For 
three  days  and  nights  I  could  not  lie  down,  my  cough  was  sc  bad. 
I  had  a  raging  fever.  My  head  ached,  and  every  bone  in  my  body 
ached.  I  still  grew  worse,  until  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day.  I 
tried  to  get  my  clothes  on,  but  could  not  stand  up  long  enough. 
•*Oh!  what  shall  I  do?"  I  went  in  my  bedroom  and  knelt  down 
by  a  chair.  Oh!  how  I  cried  and  prayed.  "Oh!  Lord,  what  is 
the  matter?  What  have  I  done?  Thou  didst  always  heal  me 
when  I  asked  Thee;  and  now  Thou  seest  I  can  hardly  hold  my 
head  up,  I  am  so  sick.  Oh!  Lord,  show  me  if  I  have  done  any- 
thing to  displease  Thee;  make  it  clear  to  me,  and  forgive  me,  for 
Jesus'  sake.  Now,  Lord,  I  will  just  be  quiet  till  Thou  dost  speak 
to  me  and  tell  me  what  I  have  done,  and  why  Thou  dost  not,  heal 
me  as  Thou  usest  to  do." 

So  I  waited  a  few  minutes;  I  don't  know  how  long;  then  it 
seemed  as  though  the  Lord  Jesus  in  person  stood  by  me;  such  a 
peaceful  hush  came  all  over  me,  and  He  seemed  to  say,  so  ten- 
derly. Oh!  so  tenderly,  "Now,  if  you  knew  the  Lord  wanted  you 
to  take  medicine  would  you  be  willing? " 

*'No,  Lord,  you  always  have  healed  me  without  medicine, 
and  why  not  now?    What  have  I  done?  " 

Then  it  seemed  just  as  though  a  person  spoke  and  said,  "  No, 
no,  but  if  you  knew  it  was  God's  will,  would  you  be  willing?"  I 
said,  "No,  Lord;  you  can  heal  me  without  medicine,  and  I  don't 
want  to  take  it."  Then  the  patient,  gentle  voice  said  the  third 
time,  "No,  no,"  and  putting  the  question  a  little  differently,  said, 
"If  you  knew  it  was  God's  will  for  you  to  take  medicine  would 
you  be  willing  to  do  Ood's  will?  " 

Oh!  how  I  cried.  I  saw  it,  but  I  said,  "  No,  Lord,  I  don't  like 
medicine;  but  Thou  canst  conquer  my  will.  I  do  not  want  to  live 
with  my  will  in  opposition  to  Thy  will.     Thou  must  conquer." 

Oh!  what  a  battle.  It  took  me  one  whole  hour  before  my  will 
went  down.  I  held  on  to  the  chair,  for  I  felt  I  must  get  up,  but  I 
said,  "No,  I  will  die  right  here."  But  I  held  right  on  to  the 
chair,  I  said,  "  I  will  never  rise  from  here  until  my  will  dies." 
And  I  knew  when  the  death  was  given  and  when  the  victory 
came.  I  remained  quiet,  and  thought  it  all  over.  And  I  said, 
"  Lord,  I  thank  Thee.  Now  tell  me  what  I  must  do."  For  I  felt 
if  ihe  Lord  had  said,  "Now,  you  go  over  there  on  Sixth  avenue  to 


Amanda  Smith. 


101 


the  drill,' Store,  and  take  all  thr  medicin.'.  bottles  and  all,"  I  was 
willing'!  Oh:  I  was  willin-  all  through!  It  seemed  wonderfully 
sweet  to  die  to  my  own  will,  and  sink  into  God.  So  just  then  it 
came  to  me  to  use  a  simple  remedy  that  I  had  used  a  thousand 
times  before,  and  in  twenty-four  hours  I  was  as  well  as  ever.  1 
never  got  over  a  cold  like  that  before  in  my  life  in  so  short  a  time; 
a  cold  like  that  would  always  be  a  three  weeks'  siege.  But  1 
seemed  to  see  what  it  all  meant.  God  showed  me.  I  was  wor- 
shii)ing  mv  will. 

Sometimes   when    I    have    told   this    strange   experience   to 
some  of  the  good  people  in  these  days,  they  throw  up  their  hands 
in  holy  horror  and  say,  "  Oh!  I  don't  see  how  you  could  dare  to  say 
so."     But  I  see  the  same  spirit  of  will-worship  in  many  of  those 
who  profess  what  they  prefer  to  call  "  Divine  healing;  "  the  same 
spirit  of  will-worship  that  I  had.     But  I  do  not  think  they  know  it. 
r  am  at  no  controversy  with  anybody  on  these  lines.    But,  Oh!  how 
I  do  thank  and  praise  God  for  opening  my  eyes  to  see,  and  I  think, 
understand  His  will  concerning  Amanda  Smith.     I  do  not  believe 
in  calling  the  doctor  for  every  little  thing,  or  making  a  drug  store 
of  one's  self;  but  I  believe  it  right  when  you  need  medicine  or  doc- 
tor, to  use  both,  prayerfully,  and  with  common-sense,  with  an  eye 
single.      But  to  say  the  use  of  means  in  sickness  is  contrary  to  the 
will  of  God,  and  that  all  Christians  should  have  faith  and  trust 
the  Lord  to  heal  them  without  the  use  of  means  at  all,  even  though 
their  common-sense,  which  is  as  much  God's  gift  to  us  as  any 
other  blessing,  tells  them  to  use  the  means,  but  must  close  their 
eyes,  ignore  all  symptoms,  and  by  the  force  of  will,  which  they 
must  call  "faith,"  ride  over  everything;- now  this  is  where  the 
tug  of  war  comes  in,  with  Amanda  Smith.     My  neighbor  i)rays, 
and  is  wonderfully  healed;  she  is  a  Christian;  so  am  I;  we  have 
both  been  blessed  of  God;  I  pray,  and  am  not  healed;  someone 
tells  me  it  is  a  lack  of  faith  on  my  part,  or  there  is  something 
wrong  in  my  consecration,  or  there  is  something  wrong  in  me 
somewhere,  and  that  is  the  reason  I  am  not  healed.     Now  comes 
the  question:     "  How  do  you  know  that?     Who  told  you  so?  "     So 
that  I  must  either  stand  judged,  or  else  I  must  judge,  and  where 
do  I  get  my  authority  for  so  doing?     The  Lord  help  me.     Amen. 
The  days  of  miracles  are  not  past.     God  has  healed  without 
the  use  of  means  of  any  kind,  as  well  as  with;  and   why  He  do.-s 
iiot  now  heal  every  case  as  He  used  to  do,  I  do  not  think  I  ha  v.*  any 


i'02  AUTOBIOGKAPHY   OP 

righ^  lo  say  is  because  of  a  lack  of  faith  on  the  part  of  some  poor, 
weak  child  of  God;  and  so  consign  them  to  perdition.  Then  there 
are  some  things  God  would  have  us  do  for  ourselves.  Not  long 
ago  I  was  at  the  home  of  a  good  minister,  a  man  that  knew  the 
Lord,  and  for  years  had  walked  in  the  light  and  blessedness  of  full 
salvation.  He  had  begun  to  get  deaf  in  his  right  ear;  it  came  on 
gradually;  sometimes  worse  than  at  other  times.  So  he  prayed 
earnestly,  and  believed  God,  and  held  on  about  a  year.  Finally  he 
seemed  to  grow  worse.  His  wife,  a  good,  saved,  orthodox,  level- 
headed woman,  had  often  said  to  him  he  ought  to  see  a  doctor 
about  it.  But  he  had  a  pretty  strong  will  of  his  own,  and  did  not 
yield  easily  to  her  persuasions.  But  she  was  gentle  and  patient. 
One  morning  as  he  was  sitting  in  the  room  talking  with  me,  she 
came  in  and  said,  "  Now,  my  dear,  you  must  really  go  and  see  the 
doctor  this  morning  about  your  deafness;  let  him  examine  it;  you 
are  getting  worse  all  the  time,  and  it  will  never  do  to  have  you 
going  around  deaf." 

The  good  man  looked  at  his  wife,  then  he  turned  to  me  and 
said,  smilingly,  "Sister  Smith,  my  wife  is  generally  pretty  clear 
when  she  decides  upon  a  thing." 

"Yes,  Sister  Smith,"  she  said,  "it  would  do  no  harm  to  go 
and  see  about  it,  anyhow." 

"Sister  M.,"  I  said,  "you  are  quite  right;  just  what  I  say." 

So  off  he  went.  He  was  gone  about  two  hours.  When  he 
returned,  I  said,  "Well,  Brother  M.,  what  did  the  doctor  say?" 

"Oh!  praise  the  Lord,  "  he  said,  "I  am  all  right;  clear  as  a 
bell."  So  he  told  the  story,  and  laughed  heartily.  I  said,  "What 
did  the  doctor  do?" 

"  Oh,"  he  said,  "  he  told  me  to  sit  down  and  he  would  examine 
my  ear;  he  said  there  was  nothing  serious  the  matter;  the  wax 
was  very  dry.  So  he  took  his  instruments  and  took  out  about  a 
thimbleful  of  wax,  and  put  a  little  sweet  oil  or  something  in  it, 
and  it  is  all  right." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "praise  the  Lord.  Some  people  would  have 
teased  the  Lord  to  have  Him  clean  out  their  ears,  when  they  might 
do  it  themselves,  or  get  someone  to  do  it  to  whom  God  had  given 
the  sense  and  ability." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

VARIOUS  EXPERIENCES  —  HIS  PRESENCE  —  OBEDIENCE  —  MY  TEMP 
TATION  TO  LEAVE  TOE  CUUKCH  —  WHAT  PEOPLE  TUINK  — 
SATISFIED. 

One  day  I  was  busy  with  my  work  and  thinking  and  com- 
muning with  Ji'sus,  for  I  found  out  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  be 
a  nun  or  be  isohited  away  off  in  some  deep  retirement  to  have 
communion  with  Jesus;  but,  though  your  hands  an-  employed  in 
doing  your  daily  business,  it  is  no  bar  to  the  soul's  communion 
with  Jesus.  Many  times  over  my  wash-tub  and  ironing  table,  and 
while  making  my  bed  and  sweeping  my  house  and  washing  my 
dishes  I  have  had  some  of  the  richest  blessings.  Oh,  how  glad  I 
am  to  know  this,  and  how  many  mothers'  hearts  I  have  cheered 
when  I  told  them  that  the  blessing  of  sanctification  did  not  mean 
isolation  from  all  the  natural  and  legitimate  duties  of  life,  as  some 
seem  to  think.  Not  at  all.  It  means  God  in  you,  supplying  all 
your  needs  according  to  His  riches  in  giory  by  Christ  Jesus;  our 
need  of  grace  and  patience  and  long  suffering  and  forbearance, 
for  we  have  to  learn  how  not  only  to  bear,  but  also  to  forbear  with 
infirmities  of  ourselves  and  others  us  well. 

I  return  to  my  story.  Thus  as  I  thought,  I  asked  again,  "  I 
Nvonder  why  the  Lord  did  not  sanctify  me  fully  when  he  justiti*  d 
me?  He  was  God,  and  He  could  have  done  it;  He  could  have  don.- 
it  all  at  once  if  He  had  had  a  mind  to."  Then  the  question. 
"  Well,  why  didn't  He  do  it?  "  and  1  was  blocked.  I  believe  that 
question  was  from  Satan;  he  intended  to  make  me  think  unkindly 
of  God.  "Here  you  have  been  struggling  all  these  years;  God 
could  have  done  it  all  at  once;  but  why  didn't  He  do  it?  "  "  YeS," 
I  said,  "  that  is  so." 

"  Well,  why  didn't  he  do  it?  "  And  I  was  so  sad  I  began  to  cry 
and  said,   "Lord,   I  don't  know  why  you  did  not  sanctify  me 

(103) 


104  Autobiography  of 

wholly  when  j'ou  justified  me  freely;  but  I  know  you  have  not 
done  it."  Then  the  blessed  Holy  Spirit  came  so  sweetly  and 
answered  my  question  by  asking  me  another,  "Why  didn't  Jesus 
make  the  blind  man  see  the  first  time  He  touched  his  eyes?" 
After  the  first  touch  Jesus  bade  him  look,  and  asked  him  what  he 
saw.     He  said,  *'  I  see  men  as  trees  walking." 

Then  He  touched  him  again  and  he  said  he^aw  every  man 
clearly. 

He  was  Christ  with  the  same  power  in  His  first  touch  as  He 
had  with  the  second.  He  could  have  made  the  blind  man  see 
clearly  the  first  time,  but  He  did  not. 

"Why,"  I  said,  "  Lord,  I  see  it,  and  it  is  none  of  my  business 
why  you  didn't  sanctify  me  fully  when  you  converted  me;  it  is 
enough  for  me  to  know  that  you  have  done  it."  I  came  into 
light  and  liberty  praising  the  Trinity.  I  quit  asking  God  ques- 
tions about  His  own  work.  I  think  it  is  impertinence,  and  yet 
how  many  do  this  very  thing,  and  when  they  don't  get  an  answer 
to  satisfy  themselves  they  become  perplexed  and  then  land  in 
skepticism  with  regard  to  the  whole  doctrine  and  truth  of  this 
great  salvation. 

One  of  the  first  things  I  discovered  after  I  came  into  the 
blessed  light  and  experience  of  full  salvation  was  a  steady  and 
appropriating  faith  that  I  never  realized  before.  I  always  be- 
lieved the  Bible  and  all  the  promises,  but  I  did  not  seem  to  have 
power  to  appropriate  the  promises  to  my  soul's  need;  but  after 
the  light  broke  in  and  my  darkness  had  fled,  power  was  given  me 
not  only  to  believe  the  promises,  but  to  appropriate  them. 

"My!  "  I  said,  as  I  would  read  the  promises,  "that  is  mine, 
and  that  is  mine;  "  and  it  was  like  when  the  sailors  reef  their 
sails;  I  took  hold  of  them  and  wrapped  them  round  me  and  walked 
up  and  down  in  possession  of  the  land.  All  things  are  yours,  and 
ye  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's.     I  sang: 

"All  things  are  mine, 
Since  I  am  His  — 
How  can  I  keep  from  singing  f** 

One  day  as  I  was  busy  about  my  room  I  seemed  to  feel  the 
conscious  presence  of  Jesus.  I  saw  nothing  with  my  eyes,  but  I 
seemed  to  be  conscious  of  the  presence  of  a  Holy  Being  by  me  and 
around  me,  and  I  talked  with  Him,  and  I  was  saying,  "Now,  if 
anyone  should  ask  me  to  tell  the  difference  between  justification 


Amanda  Smith.  10a 

aiul  saiictiticalion,  how  roiihl  I  tell  them ?  TIut"'  is  a  ditft'n'ncr; 
I  kin)W  it;  I  feel  it;  but  I  dt)n't  know  how  to  tell  it."  And  thr 
titar  Lor(l  Jesus  seemed  to  answer  my  question  by  asking?  another. 
He  said:  '*  What  is  the  ditference  between  sunlight  and  moon- 
liirht?  "  In  a  moment  I  saw  it.  I  knew  the  beauty  of  the  lovely 
inoonliirht.  I  had  read  by  its  brightness,  and  had  often  sewed  at 
iiiirht,  and  it  was  beautiful.  That  was  my  justified  state.  How 
many  times,  I  did  not  understand  clearly,  as  in  the  sunlight;  but 
the  deept^r  experience  was  in  power'like  sunlight  in  the  natural 
world.  It  penetrates  all  the  dark  corners.  H  there  is  «>ven  a 
small  nail-hole  in  a  door,  or  a  crack  anywhere,  the  sun  finds  it  out 
and  looks  through;  then  it  heats  up  everything  all  about  it. 
There  can  be  no  frost  where  the  sunlight  is;  but  it  is  tropical  all 
the  time.  There  were  deep  recesses  in  my  heart  that  the  moon- 
light did  not  reveal,  but  when  the  great  sunlight  of  sanctification 
came,  how  it  seemed  almost  to  eclipse  the  moonlight  state  of 
justification,  save  the  abiding  consciousness  of  the  time  when 
(Jod  wrought  that  first  work  in  my  soul.  I  no  longer  sang  the  old 
hymn, 

"The  midsummer  sun  shines  but  dim; 

The  fields  strive  in  vain  to  look  gay, 
But  when  I  am  happy  in  Him, 

December  's  as  pleasant  as  May." 

That  means  two  distinct  states  as  real  as  the  moonlight  and 
sunlight.  I  knew  it  was  true,  but,  O,  why  should  there  be  a 
December  in  my  heart  when  I"  may  have  the  beaming  sun?  When 
the  Holy  Ghost  came  to  my  soul  in  sanctifying  power  it  was  the 
inaugural  of  a  perpetual  May-day  that  shall  go  on  increasing  in 
faith,  and  light,  and  strength,  and  power,  and  thanksgiving,  and 
praise,  and  rest,  and  peace,  and  triumph  forever  and  ever  and 
ever.     Amen,     Amen. 

How  true  this  old  hymn  of  Charles  Wesley's: 

"  I  find  Him  in  singing; 
I  find  Him  in  prayer; 
In  sweet  meditation. 
He  always  is  there. 
My  constant  comi)anion, 
Oh,  may  we  ne'er  part, 
All  glory  to  .Tt-sus. 
He  dwells  in  my  heart. 


106  Autobiography  op 

One  day  I  was  meditating  and  thinking  upon  His  goodness. 
My  heart  was  full  of  praise  as  I  thought  of  all  the  Lord  had  done, 
and  I  said,  *'  Oh,  I  will  not  need  to  pray  now,  as  I  used  to  do." 
Just  then  these  words  came:  "The  children  of  Israel  gathered 
manna  fresh  every  morning."  I  said,  "Yes,  Jesus."  I  knew  He 
meant  to  teach  me  that  it  must  be  daily  bread  my  soul  would 
need,  and  as  my  natural  need  was  met  each  day,  so  my  spiritual 
need  must  be  met  by  prayer  and  the  reading  of  His  Holy  Word 
and  the  appropriating  of  His  promises.  Without  this  all  else 
would  avail  nothing. 

How  I  marvel  at  God's  patience  with  me  when  I  think  how 
He  led  me  about  to  teach  me  how  to  be  obedient,  in  spite  of  all 
Satan's  devices. 

I  was  working  up  town  one  day,  as  the  lady  wanted  some 
blankets  washed.  The  morning  I  was  to  go  I  had  slept  rather 
late.  I  was  to  have  been  there  at  seven  o'clock.  A  long  walk 
from  Fourth  street  to  Twenty-third  street.  I  felt  led  to  take 
some  tracts.  I  always  kept  a  lot  on  hand  and  would  take  them 
when  I  went  out,  generally  looking  over  them  so  as  to  see  and 
know  just  what  I  was  giving  away.  This  morning  Satan  seemed 
to  hurry  me.  "You  will  be  too  late  if  you  stop  to  sort  the 
tracts." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "I  am  afraid  so."  Then  the  Spirit  would 
seem  to  say,  "  Take  the  tracts."  Then  I  picked  up  a  handful  and 
began  to  look  over  them.  Then  I  got  so  nervous.  Satan  said,  "  You 
know  that  lady  will  not  pay  you  if  you  are  not  there  at  seven." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "she  is  hard  about  money  anyhow."  So  I  laid 
the  tracts  down  and  started  off,  and  it  seemed  to  me  I  never  saw 
so  many  opportunities  where  I  could  have  given  a  tract  as  I  did 
that  morning.  When  I  got  to  the  house  the  lady  said  she  would 
not  have  the  blankets  washed  that  day;  I  should  come  the  next 
week.  And  I  saw  how  Satan  had  hindered  me.  How  sorry  I  was 
I  did  not  listen  to  the  good  Spirit  and  take  the  tracts.  God  knew 
the  washing  was  not  to  be  done  that  day,  and  that  is  why  He 
whispered  so  gently  to  my  heart,  "Take  the  tracts."  I  don't 
know  who  lost  the  blessing  by  my  not  giving  them,  but  I  know  I 
lost  a  blessing  by  not  obeying.  O,  it  is  so  safe  to  obey  even  though 
it  may  be  dark.  A  few  days  later  on,  I  went,  and  as  I  had  sorted  my 
tracts,  I  prayed  that  the  Lord  would  show  me  to  whom  to  give 
them;  and  what  a  good  time  I  had.     I  met  a  very  fine  looking 


Amanda  Smith,  107 

maji  aiul  as  I  lonkt-d  at  liim  1  tn'mhlnl;  but  as  he  dn-w  n«^■l^  I 
saiil,  "Now,  Lord,  help  me."  1  had  int-t  somt- i-oNn-cd  men  and 
had  ^;iv(Mi  them  some  tracts  and  spoken  a  word,  and  the  Devil 
said,  "That  is  a  whito  gentleman,  and  he  will  curse  yon." 

Bui  when  he  came  near  I  said,  "Pardon  me,  sir;  will  vouhave 
a  tract?" 

He  seemed  thorou^'hly  astonished,  but  very  pleasant  and  cour- 
teous. He  t(x^k  the  tract  and  thanked  me.  A  couple  of  weeks 
after,  a  friend  said  to  me,  "  Did  you  give  a  tract  to  a  younjx  man 
on  Sixth  avenue  last  week?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  It  was  you,  then.  I  was  working  for  Mrs. 
A.,  and  she  told  me  that  her  son  came  home  so  happy  and  told  her 
that  a  colored  woman  had  given  him  a  tract,  and  that  ho  had  never 
read  anything  that  had  done  him  so  much  good  as  that  tract." 

O,  how  the  mother  and  son  rejoiced  together.  Her  dear  boy 
that  she  had  prayed  for  so  long  had  found  peace  and  joy  in  the 
Lord.  How  strange  it  should  come  about  in  the  way  iw  did,  but 
fJod  moves  in  mysterious  ways  His  wonders  to  perform.  On  a  little 
further,  I  passed  two  men;  they  were  musicians.  They  stood  talk- 
iiui,  and  as  I  came  near  them  a  deep  feeling  came  over  me  to  give 
those  men  a  tract.  My  heart  beat  quickly,  but  just  as  I  got  near 
them  they  seemed  to  tliink  what  I  was  going  to  do,  so  they  started 
and  walked  across  on  the  side.  I  said,  "Lord,  if  you  want  me  to 
give  that  man  a  tract,  if  there  is  a  word  that  Thou  dost  want  him 
to  have,  make  him  cross  the  next  corner  back  again."  O,  how  I 
did  pray!  Sure  enough  he  did  cross  over  the  next  corner  and  met 
me  face  to  face  and  took  a  tract,  and  thanked  me  and  seemed 
deeply  impressed.     Praise  God. 

At  another  time.  One  night  I  was  crossing  to  Williamsburg 
on  the  ferryboat.  I  had  a  good  religious  paper  in  my  hand,  which 
had  a  good  .sermon  in  it  and  some  experiences.  I  said  I  will  take 
this  and  give  it  to  some  one,  men  are  more  willing  to  take  a  paper 
than  a  tract.  On  the  boat  a  nice  looking  lad  sat  just  opposite  me, 
and  as  I  looked  at  him  the  Spirit  said,  "CJive  him  that  paper." 
.\gain  T  looked  and  thought  I  will  ijive  it  to  him  before  we  get  out. 
Then  something  seemed  to  say,  "Give  it  to  this  other  man  that 
looks  more  thoughtful." 

"No,"  it  came  to  me,  "Give  it  to  that  lad." 

I  got  up  and  handed  it  to  him.    He  took  it  and  threw  it  under- 


108  Autobiography  op 

neath  tho  bench.     Then  said  Satan,  "Now  you  have  made  a  mis 
take,  you  would  better  have  given  it  to  the  man." 

But  I  lifted  my  heart  in  prayer  and  said,  "  Now,  Lord,  if  there 
is  anything  in  that  paper  that  Thou  dost  want  that  young  man  to 
know,  make  him  pick  it  up.  Lord,  don't  let  him  go  out,  make 
him  pick  up  that  paper."  I  continued  to  pray,  and  we  were  Hear- 
ing the  shore.  I  saw  the  fellow  was  very  restless.  O,  how  I  did 
beg  the  Lord  to  make  him  pick  it  up,  I  felt  it  had  a  word  for  him. 
Just  as  the  boat  struck  the  dock,  he  stooped  down  and  picked  up 
the  paper  and  put  it  in  his  pocket  and  ran  away.  Just  then  the 
grand  old  text  came:  "If  ye  shall  ask  anything  in  My  name,  I 
will  do  it."     (John  14:14). 

I  think  it  was  November,  1869.  On  my  way  home  one  evening 
from  work,  I  met  a  friend  on  Sixth  avenue.  She  said  to  me, 
"Smith,  are  you  going  to  the  Fair  to-night?" 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  am  tired  and  shall  not  go." 

"I  have  two  tickets,  if  you  like  to  go  Twill  give  them  to  you." 

"  All  right,"  I  said,  "  If  I  feel  better  after  I  get  home  I  will  go. 
You  know  I  never  go  to  such  places  unless  the  Lord  wants  me  to 
do  something  for  Him." 

"Well,  she  said,  "I  wish  you  would  go." 

I  went  to  my  home  at  thirty-five  Amity  street,  and  as  I  prayed 
and  asked  the  Lord,  it  was  very  clear  to  me  I  was  to  go.  It  was  a 
damp,  rainy  evening,  and  I  would  think,  "Well,  it  is  too  damp 
and  I  will  not  go."  Then  it  would  come  to  me,  "Go,  take  some 
tracts." 

I  knew  I  would  be  criticised,  fori  had  become  a  speckled  bird 
among  my  own  people  on  account  of  the  profession  of  the  blessing 
of  holiness.  Remarks  would  be  made,  "There  is  Amanda  Smith, 
with  her  sanctification  again."  So  I  knew  all  that  would  be  said, 
but  I  said,  "  Lord  help  me,  and  I  will  go  for  Thee.  Tell  me  what 
Thou  dost  want  me  to  do." 

I  went  in,  and  there  were  quite  a  number;  all  seemed  to  look 
at  me,  remarks  passed,  and  then  all  went  on  as  they  would  there. 
I  walked  about  and  spoke  to  several,  then  I  sat  down  and  lifted 
my  heart  in  prayer,  and  said,  "  Lord,  I  have  no  business  here,  and 
why  should  I  stay,  make  it  clear  what  you  want  me  to  do;"  and 
these  words  were  spoken  to  my  heart  distinctly,  "  Go  stand  in  the 
way."  I  got  up  and  went  and  stood  at  the  top  of  the  stairs  where 
the  people  were  coming  up.     Several  persons  passed  up,  then  came 


Amanda  Smith.  109 

two  young  men  full  of  gl»'o.  The  Spirit  st'cnicd  to  pick  out  one 
t'Spt'cialiy,  and  said,  "  Speak  to  that  youiitc  man  "  I  did;  he  was 
respectful  as  he  could  be,  but  said  it  was  lime  enough  for  him, 
and  with  a  toss  of  the  head  turned  away. 

I  handed  some  tracts  to  several  others,  then  the  Lord  Sfomed 
to  say,  "  You  may  go  home."  I  went  out,  and  felt  that  I  had  don«' 
as  I  was  told,  but  how  strange  that  I  should  not  do  anything  but 
that.  I  went  home  and  bore  this  young  man  up  to  God.  This,  I 
think,  was  on  "Wednesday  evening.  On  Saturday,  as  I  was  carry- 
ing .some  clothes  home,  I  met  some  one  on  Sixth  avenue  and  they 
said,  '*  Did  you  hear  that  Charlie  S.  is  dead?" 

"No." 

"Well,  he  is,  he  was  found  dead  in  his  bed  this  morning;  hf 
was  at  the  Fair  the  other  night,  well  and  hearty."  I  went  and 
looked  at  him.  There  he  was,  dead,  no  sign  of  sickness,  and  the 
very  young  man  that  God  had  sent  me  to  speak  to.  He  looked  as 
though  he  were  asleep.  O,  how  sad  it  was,  and  yet  how  glad  I  was 
that  I  had  strength  given  me  that  night  to  obey  the  Lord,  and  do 
as  I  thought  He  led  me,  whether  the  young  man  would  hear,  or 
whether  he  would  forbear. 

I  seemed  to  see  the  inconsistencies  of  the  brethren  and  sisters 
so  much  more  than  I  ever  had  before.  I  had  seen  some  before,  as 
I  suppose  most  people  do.  I  saw  my  own,  and  what  the  Lord  had 
saved  me  from,  and  I  wanted  everybody  to  get  saved  right  away. 
Brother  Patterson  was  pastor  of  the  Sullivan  Street  A.  M.  E. 
Church  at  the  time  I  got  the  blessing.  He  enjoyed  the  experience 
and  preached  the  doctrine.  But  colored  people  are  like  some 
white  people;  although  the  church  prospered  under  his  adminis- 
tration, and  we  had  a  wonderful  revival  during  the  two  years,  and 
the  church  was  built  up  and  edified,  yet  many  of  them  did  not 
like  him.  After  he  left.  Rev.  Nelson  Turpin  was  sent  to  us.  He 
was  fierce.  He  openly  opposed  and  denounced  the  doctrine  and 
experience  of  the  blessing  of  full  salvation,  although  there  were  a 
number  in  the  church,  some  among  the  leading  members,  who 
claimed  to  have  the  experience.  He  was  very  popular  with  the 
great  mass.  The  church  was  crowded.  Then  we  i)Oor  .souls  who 
dared  to  testify  definitely  in  a  Love  Feast,  or  in  a  General  Class, 
might  expect  a  raking;  and  especially  on  Sunday  nights,  when  the 
church  would  be  crowded,  he  would  take  especial  pains  to  tell 
some  ridiculous  inconsistency  about  some    sanctified    sister    or 


110  Autobiography  op 

brother  that  he  used  to  know.  Then,  if  a  sister,  he  -would  say: 
•'  They  put  on  a  plain  bonnet  and  shawl  and  wear  a  long  face,  but 
they  are  sanctified  Devils."  Then  all  eyes  would  be  turned  on 
Sister  Scott  and  myself,  for  we  were  about  the  only  ones  that 
dressed  in  the  way  described.  Then  there  would  be  a  regular  gig- 
gle all  over  the  house.  How  much  I  had  to  contend  with.  Hence 
my  temptation  to  leave  the  church.  Then  I  did  not  like  fairs  and 
festivals  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  But  God  saved  me  from  backslid- 
ing over  any  of  those  things.  Then  I  was  in  bondage  to  my 
clothes;  in  bondage  to  other  people's  clothes.  If  they  were  not 
made  just  as  I  thought  they  ought  to  be  it  troubled  me,  and  I  did 
not  care  if  I  did  not  hear  them  speak  and  pray  in  prayer  meeting. 
I  had  rather  not  kneel  at  communion  with  these  dressed-up  people. 
Then  I  was  afraid  of  Brother  Turpin.  At  first  he  was  very  kind; 
but  after  a  little  while  he  would  always  try  to  shun  me.  But  I 
would  follow  him  up,  ask  him  to  come  to  see  me,  and  would  go 
to  see  Sister  Turpin  and  the  children.  But  he  would  always  be 
very  formal  and  cold.  My!  how  afraid  of  him  I  did  get!  So  one 
day  Mother  Jones  said  to  me,  "  Sister  Smith,  if  I  were  you  I  would 
not  say  anything  about  sanctification.  You  see  people  do  not  like 
it,  and  they  persecute  you,  and  I  do  not  like  to  hear  them." 

"Well,  but  Mother  Jones,"  I  said,  "the  Lord  has  blessed  mo 
BO,  and  I  can't  help  it."  Then  she  laughed  and  took  hold  of  mo 
BO  kindly,  and  said,  "I  would  not  say  anything  about  it  if  I  were 
you." 

So  I  went  home  and  thought  how  Mother  Jones  sympathized 
with  me.  So  I  began  to  be  very  indefinite  in  my  testimony.  I 
chose  words  that  the  people  would  like.  I  would  say,  "I  am  all 
the  Lord's."  They  would  say,  "Amen!"  Or,  if  I  said,  "Jesus 
saves  me  fully,"  or  "The  blood  cleanseth,"  they  would  say, 
**Amen! "  to  that.  But  if  I  used  the  word  "sanctify,"  then  there 
was  a  rustling  among  the  dry  bones.  Then  look  out  for  the  next 
testimony,  especially  if  in  a  General  Class  or  Love  Feast.  Thank 
God,  He  led  my  class  leader,  Henry  De  Shields,  into  the  experi- 
ence in  answer  to  prayer,  just  three  weeks  after  I  got  the  blessing. 
So  while  "  Pop  "  Scott,  who  was  assistant  class  leader,  never  came 
out  clear.  Brother  De  Shields  was  a  power  and  a  great  help  to 
myself,  and  to  many.  He  still  lives  in  New  York,  and  at  this 
writing  is  walking  in  the  light  of  full  salvation.  Still,  I  Avas  afraid 
of  Brother  Turpin.     Then  darkness  came  over  me,  and  the  joy 


Amanda  Smith.  Ill 

and  peace  all  soemod  to  bo  gone.  I  did  not,  know  wluit  ailed  mr. 
So  1  set  apart  Friday  to  fast  and  i)ray,  and  find  out  the  causr  of 
lliis  darkness.  Satan  suggested  many  tilings,  but  I  held  on  and 
cried  to  God  for  light  and  help.  So,  about  two  r.  m.,  though  I  had 
stopped  my  work  and  gone  away  and  prayed  a  number  of  times 
that  day,  I  took  my  Bible  and  knelt  down  to  pray.  And  I  said: 
"Oh!  Lord,  show  me  what  is  the  matter.  Why  is  this  darkness 
in  my  mind?  O!  Lord,  make  it  clear  to  me."  And  the  Spirit 
seemed  to  say  to  me  very  distinctly,  "Read."  And  I  opened  my 
Bible,  and  my  eyes  lighted  on  these  words:  "Perfect  love  casteth 
out  fear.  He  that  feareth  has  not  been  made  perfect  in  love." 
Then  I  said:  "  Lord,  if  I  am  not,  I  will  be  now."  Then  I  saw  what 
was  the  matter.  Fearl  And  I  said:  "Oh!  Lord,  take  all  the  man- 
fearing  spirit  out  of  me.  I  thank  Thee  for  what  Thou  hast  done  for 
me,  but  deliver  me  from  fear.  Take  all  the  woman-fearing  spirit  out 
of  me,  and  give  me  complete  victory  over  this  fear."  And,  thank 
the  Lord,  He  did  it.  There  was  no  especial  manifestation,  but 
there  was  a  deep  consciousness  in  my  heart  that  what  I  had  asked 
the  Lord  to  do,  He  had  done,  and  I  praised  Him.  Then  He  came 
to  me:  "Will  j'ou  go  uptown  to  Union  Church  on  Sunday  and  tes- 
tify definitely?" 

*•  Yes,  Lord,  if  Thou  wUt  help  me,  and  give  mc  Thy  strength, 
and  go  with  me,  I  will  go."  So  there  was  a  calm  and  peace  in  my 
heart.  Union  Church,  uptown,  was  a  colored  church.  There  was 
not  a  member  in  it  that  believed  in  the  doctrine  of  holiness;  and 
from  that  church  there  had  been  great  criticism  in  regard  to  my 
]irofessing  such  a  blessing  Sunday  morning  came.  The  Love 
Feast  was  at  G  o'clock  a.  a..  I  had  been  but  once  before.  I  got 
ready  and  went.  My  heart  trembled,  and  my  knees  trembled. 
But  I  went  on,  and  I  said,  "Now,  Lord,  heli)  me,  and  I  will  go." 
I  got  in  and  sat  down.  The  church  was  well  filled.  A  number 
of  strange  ministers  sat  in  the  altar.  Every  eye  was  turned  on 
me.  After  the  meeting  opened  the  testimony  began.  The  min- 
isters urged  everybody  to  be  short,  and  in  many  of  the  testimonies 
there  were  remarks  and  insinuations  tlirown  out  to  me.  I  sat  still 
and  prayed.  Oh!  how  I  did  pray.  Tlvn  theV  began  to  get  very 
noisy.  They  shouted  and  praised.  I  s;iid  to  the  Lord;  "Now, 
Lord,  I  will  speak  for  Thee  if  Thou  will  make  ijiese  p<'ople  be  quiet. 
Lord,  make  them  be  quiet.  I  can't  talk  when  there  is  a  great 
noise,  and  Thou  hast  sent  me  here  to  speak  for  Thee,  and  I  want  the 


112  Autobiography  of 

people  to  hear.  Lord,  make  them  be  still."  Sometimes  there  would 
be  three  or  four  on  the  floor  speaking  at  the  same  time.  The 
ministers  would  urge  them  on,  and  say:  "  The  Lord  can  hear  you 
all.  Don't  wait  on  one  another."  But  I  prayed,  "Lord,  still 
them,  still  them."  Then  there  came  a  pause.  Then  I  got  on  my 
feet.  Then  they  began  to  shout  again,  and  they  drowned  me  out. 
So  I  stood  still,  and  prayed,  "  Lord,  still  the  people."  And  He  did. 
They  calmed  down  so  that  when  I  began,  there  was  not  another 
one  spoke.  I  began  and  quoted  several  passages  of  Scripture  bear- 
ing on  holiness  definitely,  and  on  God's  promise  of  this  grace  to 
those  who  sought  it,  and  how  it  was  obtained  by  faith.  And  they 
listened.  The  ministers  touched  one  another.  I  went  on  talking, 
and  by  and  by  I  came  to  a  point  when  it  seemed  a  finger  touched 
my  tongue,  and  the  power  of  God  came  upon  me  in  such  a  won- 
derful manner  that  I  talked,  it  seemed  to  me,  about  ten  minutes. 
The  people  looked  as  though  they  were  alarmed.  The  ministers 
who  sat  in  the  altar,  and  who  had  looked  so  critical  when  I  came 
in,  began  to  shout  "Amen!  Lord  Almighty,  bless  that  sister!" 
And  then  the  fire  seemed  to  fall  on  all  the  people.  When  I  had 
finished,  I  sat  down,  feeling  that  I  had  delivered  the  message 
according  to  the  will  of  the  Lord.  To  His  name  be  all  the  glory 
for  the  strength  He  gave  me  that  day.     Amen.     Amen. 

One  day  Sister  Scott  called  and  was  so  happy.  She  told  me 
some  white  sisters  had  been  at  her  house,  and  had  prayed  and 
sung,  and  that  they  were  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  They  were 
dressed  so  plain  and  neat.  They  belonged  to  the  Free  Methodist 
Church,  uptown  somewhere  in  New  York.  And  they  asked  her 
to  come  to  some  of  their  meetings.  "Oh!  "I  said,  "why  didn't 
you  bring  them  to  see  me?"  She  said,  "I  told  them  I  would 
bring  you  up  to  their  church  sometime."  So  on  Sunday  I  went 
with  her.  It  was  about  two  miles  from  where  I  lived.  We  started 
early,  and,  of  course,  we  walked  all  the  way.  We  thought  it  was 
a  dreadful  thing  to  ride  on  the  street  cars  on  Sunday.  And  I 
think  still  we  should  not  do  it  whenever  we  can  avoid  it.  But 
I  am  not  in  bondage  even  in  this  as  I  once  was.  Praise  the  Lord! 
We  got  to  the  church.  Mr.  Mackey,  who  was  so  well  known  all 
over  New  York,  was  then  ver}'  popular  and  prominent  in  that 
church,  and  was  a  good  friend  to  the  colored  people.  For  years 
he  led  meetings  at  the  Colored  Home  in  New  York.  When  we 
went  into  t^e  church  he  was  there,  and  was  so  glad  to  see  us.  He 
shook  hands,  and  seated  us,  and  was  so  kind. 


Amanda  Smith.  113 

•'My!"l  thought,  "  how  nice  these  people  are."  For  such 
treatment  as  that  in  a  white  church  was  not  common  for  colored 
persons.  Then  the  church  was  so  very  pretty  and  phiin.  No 
Stained  glass,  or  cushions,  no  pipe  organ  and  quartette  choir. 
Then  the  sisters  were  all  so  plain.  So  was  I.  For  before  I  got  the 
blessing  I  dressed  Quaker  style,  because  I  liked  it,  and  it  was  a 
matter  of  economy.  Then  the  preacher  that  Sunday  morning  was 
a  Mr.  James,  and  he  had  no  gold  studs  in  his  shirt,  no  rings  un 
his  lingers.  His  face  was  placid  and  bright.  And  wliat  a  st-rmon 
he  pn'^iehed  on  Holiness.  My  .soul  was  fed,  and  I  prayed  to  the 
Lord  to  put  it  in  the  heart  of  the  minister  to  ask  persons  to  join 
the  church.  I  felt  I  must  join  this  church.  It  was  a  true  church. 
And  that  kind  of  preaching  I  had  heard  my  father  talk  about  that 
they  used  to  hear  forty  years  ago.  Well,  I  prayed.  Always  before 
when  I  had  prayed,  from  the  time  I  had  received  the  blessing, 
somehow  the  Lord  had  answered  me  so  quick.  But  this  morning 
He  didn't  seem  to  answer;  and  yet,  now,  I  see  it  was  an  answer. 
For  sometimes  when  the  Lord  denies  a  request,  it's  as  much  an 
answer  as  when  He  grants  it.  Though  I  had  been  a  member  of 
the  African  Methodist  Church  for  years,  I  was  willing  that  morn- 
ing to  join  without  a  letter,  on  probation.  I  said,  "  I  can  get  my 
letter  from  my  church,  I  know,  but  they  will  want  to  know  all 
the  reason  why,  and  I  don't  want  to  tell.  I  just  want  to  come  into 
this  church.  These  people  seem  so  good!  Just  the  right  kind  of 
people."  So  I  prayed  on.  The  sermon  was  finished.  Then  they 
had  a  prayer  meeting,  and  Brother  Irvin  prayed.  Oh!  what  a 
prayer.  I  shall  ever  remember  it.  He  was  well  known,  and  a 
man  of  wonderful  power.  And  I  thought,  "Will  they  close  with- 
out asking  if  any  one  wants  to  join!  I  will  get  up  and  go  and  ask 
them  to  take  me  in.  But  then  they  will  wonder  why  I  have  not 
brought  my  letter,  and  what  will  I  say?  The  Lord  help  me!" 
And  He  did,  but  not  as  I  wanted  then,  but  as  it  is  written,  **  Ye 
shall  know  if  ye  follow  on  to  know  the  Lord."  The  meeting  did 
close,  and  no  one  was  asked  to  join.  But  the  friends  gathrrrd 
around  Sister  Scott  and  me,  shook  hands,  and  said  they  were  glad 
to  see  us.  The  minister  shook  hands  and  asked  us  to  come  again. 
They  were  all  so  nice.  They  shouted,  and  were  so  free,  as  the 
Free  Methodists  are.  Brother  Irvin  came  up  to  me,  and  gave  me 
several  tracts  on  the  origin  and  doctrine  of  the  Free  Methodist 
Church.     How  that  it  separated  itself  on  ::ccount  of  slavery  and 


114  Autobiography  op 

secret  societies.  All  this  was  new  to  me,  but  suited  me  exactly. 
Then  he  gave  me  a  tract  on  plain  dressing.  Oh!  how  I  did  peruse 
that.  Brother  E.  lived  on  Dominick  street  downtown,  not  a  great 
way  from  where  I  lived,  on  Amity  street.  He  had  a  week  night 
class  at  his  house,  so  he  asked  us  to  come.  On  Tuesday  night  I 
went.  It  was  warm,  and  there  stood  on  the  table  a  pitcher  of 
water,  and  every  now  and  then  someone  of  the  brethren  would 
shout,  V  Glory  to  God,"  then  take  a  glass  of  water.  Well,  I  thought 
it  was  dreadful.  For  I  thought,  "We  don't  do  that.  We  can 
stay  at  class  until  it  is  out  without  drinking  water."  Then  I 
thought  it  was  wrong  to  use  a  fan.  So  I  suffered  from  heat  rather 
than  fan  myself  when  in  church.  Then  they  made  so  much 
unnecessary  noise.  Just  what  I  didn't  like  in  my  own  people. 
And  I  thought  it  would  be  different. 

But  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  join  this  church.  So  the  next 
week  I  went  again  and  they  were  having  a  prayer  meeting.  They 
had  a  great  big  carman  on  his  knees  by  a  chair  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor.  A  brother  was  on  each  side  of  him,  one  behind  him, 
and  another  in  front,  and  they  were  shouting  and  pounding  and 
trying  to  make  the  man  say  he  believed.  ' '  You  believe !  Say  Halle- 
lujah."  "Praise  the  Lord."  Then  they  would  say,  "Amen!"  Then 
they  got  up,  took  hold  of  the  man,  stood  him  on  his  feet  and  said, 
"  Praise  the  Lord."     But  he  was  heavy,  and  would  not  say  it. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "that's  just  what  I  find  fault  with  my  own 
people  for.  And  these  people  are  good  people,  but  they  have  their 
failings,  just  like  other  people.  So  I  might  as  well  stay  where  I 
am."  Then  they  told  me  there  were  no  prejudices  among  them. 
That  colored  people  were  always  treated  well.  And  I  was  glad  of 
that.  So  the  next  week  I  went  again.  Brother  James  led  the 
class  that  night.  He  had  thrown  across  his  shoulders  a  very 
stylish  shawl,  such  as  gentlemen  wore  in  those  days,  and  in  it  was 
a  very  pretty  steel  pin  and  chain,  which  shone  bright. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  did  not  think  Brother  James  would  wear 
that." 

So  a  sister  came  in.  When  she  saw  Sister  Thompson,  whom 
I  had  got  to  go  with  me  that  night,  and  myself,  she  frowned  and 
turned  her  back  on  us.  "  Well,"  I  thought,  "  they  say  they  have 
no  prejudice.  But  she  acts  just  like  she  had,  anyhow.  After  all, 
perhaps  I  had  better  not  join." 

Then  a  dear  lady  got  up  and  gave  such  a  beautiful  testimony, 


Amanda  Smith/  115 

and  was  so  sweet  in  spirit.  How  lu-r  testimony  helped  me.  But, 
Oh!  such  a  raking  as  Brother  James  gave  her  about  her  dress. 
She  had  on  a  plain  fifty  cent  black  straw  bonnet,  with  a  piece  of 
black  ribbon  across  the  middle  and  a  little  bow  on  the  side.  Not 
a  Hower,  or  a  bit  of  color  of  any  kind.  She  said.  "Well,  Brother 
James,  I  never  thought  anything  about  it.  I  just  got  the  milliner 
to  U.\  it  up  to  wear  to  market,  and  I  put  it  on."  !  never  thought 
anything  about  the  bow  he  had  so  bitterly  denounced.  Hut  he 
did  not  let  her  olT.  He  picked  her  testimony  all  to  pieces.  How  I 
lelt  for  her.  And  I  thought  there  was  much  more  of  self  and  si)irit 
in  his  manner  and  in  the  swell  shawl  and  the  steel  pin  and  chain  that 
swung  about,  than  there  was  in  the  sister  he  raked  so.  Next  he 
came  to  the  sister  who  turned  her  back.  She  spoke  short,  and  kept 
her  back  to  us.  When  he  came  to  me,  I  arose  and  said:  ♦•  I  under- 
stood that  you  people  have  no  prejudices  against  colored  people." 

"Yes,"  Brother  E.  says. 

"Well,  will  it  be  right  for  me  to  speak  just  what  I  think?'* 

"Yes,  certainly,"  said  he.  "We  are  Free  Methodists,  so  you 
can  speak  your  mind." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  think  you  have  the  spirit  of  prejudice 
among  you  just  like  other  people.  I  do  not  think  I  am  mistaken, 
for  the  spirit  of  this  meeting  seems  very  clear  to  me." 

They  had  on  the  mantel  three  or  four  little  stuffed  birds.  So 
I  said,  "  I  do  not  think  it  is  right  to  have  those  stulfed  birds  there. 
The  Bible  says  we  are  not  to  have  pictures  of  anything  in  heaven, 
or  on  earth,  or  in  the  water."  Well,  I  knew  the  quotation  cor- 
rectly then.  So  after  I  had  said  this,  Brother  E.  said,  "Well, 
Sister  Smith,  God  bless  you.  About  there  being  prejudice,  you 
are  mistaken;  but  about  the  images,  you  are  right." 

So  then  Brother  E.  led  his  wife,  and  he  said  to  her,  "  You 
don't  pray  as  much  as  you  used  to,  I  know.  Often  when  I  u.sed  to 
be  down  town  in  my  office  I  could  tell  when  you  were  praying." 
Then  he  talked  to  her  so  before  all  the  people. 

When  he  got  through  she  got  up  and  went  upstairs  and 
slammed  the  door  after  her.  And  I  said,  "  Well,  that  meiin.s  what 
I  used  to  mean  when  I  slammed  the  door  after  me."  But  still  he 
did  say  a  lot  of  things  to  her  that  I  thought  he  ought  to  have  said 
to  her  alone.  So  I  said,  "  Well,  these  people  are  just  like  my  own. 
So  I  guess  I  will  not  join." 

When  we  came  out,  one  of  the  sisters  came  out  with  us.     She 


116  Autobiography  o^ 

was  a  good  sister.  She  went  up  to  me,  took  hold  of  me,  and  said, 
•'Sister  Smith,  you  are  right  about  that  prejudice  part  of  it.  That 
sister  that  3'ou  referred  to  has  got  prejudices,  and  she  was  so  vexed, 
and  she  said  to-night  as  she  was  coming  she  hoped  the  colored 
folks  would  not  be  there.  She  does  not  like  it  because  they 
come."  I  said,  "I  knew  I  was  right.  But  Brother  E.  does  not 
know  that,  does  he?" 

"Oh!  no,  she  does  not  say  it  to  them;  but  she  has  said  it  to 
me,  and  I  know  her." 

So  I  never  went  back  again. 

Then  Rev.  Joshua  Woodland  was  pastor  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
Church  in  Brooklyn.  He  was  a  man  of  God,  and  preached  the 
Gospel.  So  I  said,  **  As  I  cannot  get  real  food  for  my  soul  in  my 
own  church,  I  will  go  to  Brooklyn  and  join  Brother  Woodland's. 
Of  course  it  will  cost  me  something  to  go  and  come,  but  I  will 
walk  on  this  side  and  cross  on  the  boat,  and  walk  on  the  other  side 
to  church;  and  then  a  sermon  once  a  week  will  help  me,  and  I  will 
still  go  to  my  class  here  in  New  York."  So  I  prayed  for  light  and 
guidance  for  three  weeks.  At  last  I  said,  one  day,  "Lord,  show 
me  by  Thy  Spirit  through  Thy  Word,  what  I  must  do.  Thou 
kno west  I  want  to  do  Thy  will  only."  And  I  opened  my  Bible, 
and  as  I  looked,  my  eyes  lighted  on  these  words:  "  Fear  not,  stand 
still,  and  see  the  salvation  of  God."  And  there  came  a  flood  of 
light  and  peace  to  my  heart.  And  I  arose  and  praised  the  Lord. 
I  never  left  the  church,  but  I  have  seen  sad  results  of  many  who 
have  left  and  gone  away.  Some  have  done  well,  probably,  but 
others  have  made  sad  failures.  What  a  pity.  I  can  call  up  a 
number  of  white  people,  young  men  and  women,  that  I  used  to 
know  in  New  York,  and  Oh!  how  they  have  failed  in  their  lives, 
leaving  one  church  and  joining  another.  Thank  the  Lord  he  has 
kept  me  steady.     Amen. 

It  is  often  said  too  me,  "How  nicely  5^ou  get  on,  Mrs.  Smith: 
everybody  seems  to  treat  you  so  kindly,  and  you  always  seem  to 
get  on  so  well." 

"Yes;  that  is  what  you  think,"  I  said;  "but  I  have  much 
more  to  contend  with  than  you  may  think."  Then  they  said: 
"Oh,  well,  but  no  one  would  treat  you  unkindly."  Then  I  said: 
"But  if  you  want  to  know  and  understand  properly  what  Amanda 
Smith  has  to  contend  with,  just  turn  black  and  go  about  as  I  do, 
and  you  will  come  to  a  different  conclusion."     And  I  think  some 


Amanda  Smith.  H'' 

people  wouia  u.ul-rslan.l  tl...  duintess.uce  o!  sanctifying  grac.  it 
Ihey  could  be  black  about  lw,-nl)-fuur  hours.  ^\  e  n..<i  to  be 
saved  deep  to  make  us  thorough,  all  around,  out  and  out,  come  up 
to  the  standard  Christians,  and  not  bring  the  standard  down  ..  us; 
and  as  old  Brother  Cooper  in  Africa  used  to  say,      Lord,  help  the 

'"'one'd'lya' lad  "sked  me  if  I  did  not  think  all  colored  people 
wanted  to  be  white.     1  told  her  that  I  did  not  think  so-I  did  nol^ 
I  never  wished  1  was  while  but  once,  that  1  -"''l;,;-'-'",^:;_Y"^ 
that  was  years  ago.     1  was  at  a  white  Method.s    Churc-1>  .n  Lau 
caster;  I  sat  in  the  gallery      The  new  muosler  '-J     ""^^  ,  T'" 
was  his   first  Sunday.     I  lived  at  Colonel  Henry  McOraw  s,  on 
Lime  street,  and  the  church  was  about  two  squares  from  where  1 
u!^      The  colored  church  where  I  belonged  and  attended  was 
quite  a  ways  from  our  house.     I  always  had  a  big  dinner  to  cook 
on  Sunday  when  Mr.  McGraw  was  at  home.     He  had  a  very  dear 
W^d,  Mr.  James  Reynolds,  whom  he  always  liked  to  have  d.ne 
with  him.     I  generally  liked  to  go  to  church  on  Sunday  morning, 
but  it  was  too  far  tor  me  to  go  and  get  back  so  as  to  hav-e  my  din- 
ner in  time.    I  was  always  very  proud  of  being  prompt  with  my 
dinner,  so  that  often  on  Sunday  I  would  only  get  out  at  night. 
This  Sunday  I  thought  I  would  go  and  hear  the  new  minister. 
All  the  young  people  generally  sat  upstairs,  and  a  colored  person 
was  to  Ihem  an  object  of  game  and  criticism.     I  was  careful  to 
do  nothing  to  provoke  this  spirit,  but  1  generally  got  enough  of  .t 
1   don't   remember   what   the   te.xt  was;  but  O,    how  well  1 
remember  the  power  with  which  the  preacher  spoke,  and  the 
sweetness  of  his  countenance.     As  he  preached  the  Lord  blessed 
me  wonderfully,  and  I  did  want  to  shout  "Pra.se  the  Lo^^".    »"| 
I  remember  saying   "I   wish   I  was  white,  and       would  shou 
•Glory   to  Jesus.'"      They  did  not  look  at  white  people    "o 
remark  about  their  shouting:  for  they  did  use  to  shout!     1  did 
not  shout,  but  thought,  "The  willing  mind  is  accepted  according 
to  what  a  man  hath,  and  not  according  to  what  he  "ath  not 
And  that  was  the  only  time  in  my  life  I  ever  wanted  to  be  wh.  e. 
But,  praise  the  LordI  I  shout  now  whenever  His  spirit  prompts^ 
No,  we  who  are  the  royal  black  are  very  well  satisfied   Mth  Is 
gift  to  us  in  this  substantial  color.     I,  for  one,  praise  Him  lor 
what  He  has  given  me,  although  at  times  it  is  very  inconvenient. 
Fo,    example:     When   on    my  way  t"  t;aliform»  last  January ,  a 
rear  ago,  if  I  had  been  white  1  could  have  stopped  at  a  hotel,  but 


118  Autobiography  ob* 

being  black,  though  a  lone  woman,  I  was  obliged  to  stay  all  night 
in  the  waiting  room  at  Austin,  Texas,  though  I  arrived  at  ten  p.  m.; 
and  many  times  when  in  Philadelphia,  or  New  York,  or  Balti- 
more, or  most  anywhere  else  except  in  grand  old  historic  Boston, 
I  could  not  go  in  and  have  a  cup  of  tea  or  a  dinner  at  a  hotel  or 
restaurant.  There  may  be  places  in  these  cities  where  colored 
people  may  be  accommodated,  but  generally  they  are  proscribed, 
and  that  sometimes  makes  it  very  inconvenient.  I  could  pay  the 
price  —  yes,  that  is  all  right;  I  know  how  to  behave  —  yes,  that  is 
all  right;  I  may  have  on  my  very  best  dress  so  that  I  look 
elegant — yes,  that  is  all  right;  I  am  known  as  a  Christian  lady 
—  yes,  that  is  all  right;  I  will  occupy  but  one  chair;  I  will 
touch  no  person's  plate  or  fork  —  yes  that  is  all  right;  but  you  are 
black!  Now,  to  say  that  being  black  did  not  make  it  inconven- 
ient for  us  often,  would  not  be  true;  but  belonging  to  royal  stock, 
as  we  do,  we  propose  braving  this  inconvenience  for  the  present, 
and  pass  on  into  the  great  big  future  where  all  these  little  things 
will  be  lost  because  of  their  absolute  smallness!  May  the  Lord 
send  the  future  to  meet  us!     Amen. 

At  Ocean  Grove  a  lady  took  me  aside  and  said,  "Now,  Amanda 
Smith,  I  want  to  ask  you  honestly;  I  know  you  cannot  be — ." 

"What  now?"  thought  I. 

"I  know  you  cannot  be  white,  but  if  you  could  be,  would  you 
not  rather  be  white  than  black?  " 

*'No,  no,"  I  said,  "as  the  Lord  lives,  I  would  rather  be  black 
and  fully  saved  than  to  be  white  and  not  saved;  I  was  bad  enough, 
black  as  I  am,  and  I  would  have  been  ten  times  worse  if  I  had 
been  white."  How  she  roared  laughing.  She  was  all  right,  but 
I  think  she  just  wanted  to  test  me  a  little  bit.  Yes,  thank  God,  I 
am  satisfied  with  my  color.  I  am  glad  I  had  no  choice  in  it,  for 
if  I  had,  I  am  sure  I  would  not  have  been  satisfied;  for  when  I 
was  a  young  girl  I  was  passionately  fond  of  pea-green,  and  if 
choice  had  been  left  to  me  I  would  have  chosen  to  be  green,  and  I 
am  sure  God's  color  is  the  best  and  most  substantial.  It's  the 
blood  that  makes  whiteness.     Hallelujah! 

"The  blood  applied, 
I'm  justified, 

I'm  saved  without,  within. 
The  blood  of  Jesus  cleanseth  me 
From  every  trace  of  sin." 


Amanda  Smith.  !!• 

Chorus—  "There  is  power  in  Jesus'  blood, 
There  is  power  in  Jesus'  blood, 
There  is  power  in  Jesus'  blood 
To  wash  me  white  as  snow." 

"Many  years  my  lonj^'inj;-  heart 
Had  sij^hed,  had  lon^n-d  to  know 
The  virtue  of  the  Saviour's  blood, 
That  washes  white  as  snow." 

One  day  in  New  York  I  went  into  the  Tuesday  Palmer's  meet- 
ing. A  lady  came  in,  and  there  was  a  very  comfortable  si-al  by 
me,  and  after  looking  about  for  some  other  place  she  finally 
decided  to  take  the  one  by  me,  but  I  saw  she  was  uncomfortable. 
She  fanned  and  fidgeted  and  fussed  and  aired  herself  till  I  wished 
in  my  heart  she  had  gone  somewhere  else.  Before  the  meeting 
closed  I  arose  and  spoke;  the  Lord  helped  me  and  blessed  the 
people.  At-the  close  of  the  meeting  this  lady  turned  to  me  so  full 
of  pleasant  smiles,  and  said,  "Oh,  I  did  not  know  I  was  sitting  by 
Amanda  Smith;  I  feel  myself  highly  honored."  I  looked  at  her 
and  pitied  her,  but  felt  sick!  I  said  in  my  heart,  "From  all 
hollowness  and  sham,  Good  Lord  deliver  us!" 

One  day  at  Oakington  Camp  Meeting  there  was  a  lady  1  heard 
giving  her  testimony.  She  said,  "  I  have  come  over  five  hundred 
miles^'to  this  meeting  to  get  the  blessing  of  entire  sanctification. 
I  believe  it  is  my  privilege  to  enjoy  this  experience,  but  I  have 
not  got  it.  1  have  read  all  the  works  on  the  subject  and  sought 
earnestly  day  and  night,  and  yet  I  have  not  got  the  light." 

O,  how  I  wanted  to  tell  her  it  was  not  in  the  books.  I  arose 
to  speak  and  tell  her,  as  I  thought  the  Lord  wanted  me  to,  but  I 
was  told  to  sit  down,  there  were  others  who  wanted  to  speak.  I 
was  a  little  sorry,  for  I  was  quite  sure  my  desire  to  speak  was  the 
Lord's  prompting;  but  I  must  needs  learn  obedience  of  the  powers 
that  be.  Praise  the  Lord  for  the  grace  that  enabled  me  to  do 
so.  Hallelujah!  I  also  saw  some  things  that  were  not  what  I 
called  consistent  with  the  profession  of  the  sanctified  life.  It  was 
unexpected,  and  I  was  young  in  the  experience  and  was  struck 
a  little;  but  God  saved  me  from  backsliding  from  this  principle, 
as  many  do  when  they  meet  with  things  in  life  that  do  not  har- 
monize with  the  profession  of  holiness.  There  is  much  of  the 
human  nature  for  us  to  battle  with,  even  after  we  are  wholl} 


120  Autobiography  op  AmaKda  SMirtt. 

sanctified,  so  that  we  shall  ever  need  the  beautiful  grace  of 
patience.  "For  ye  have  need  of  patience,  that,  after  ye  have 
done  the  will  of  God,  ye  might  receive  the  promise.**  He- 
brews, 10:36. 


CHAPTER  X. 

•'THY  WILL  BE  DONE,"  AND  HOW  THE  srilUT  TAUGHT  ME  ITS 
MEANING,  ALSO  THAT  OF  SOME  OTHER  PASSAGES  OP  SCRIP- 
TURE—MY DAUGHTER  MAZIE's  CONVERSION. 

It  all  came  to  me  so  clearly  after  I  had  received  the  baptism 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  I  saw  that  I  had  prayed  from  my  earliest 
childhood  this  prayer,  but  had  never  understood  it;  but.  Oh  I  when 
the  Spirit  revealed  it  to  me  I  was  so  astonished  that  I  had  not  seen 
It  before.  "Our  Father,"  I  said,  "God  is  my  Father.  He  has 
made  me,  and  I  am  His  child,"  How  that  word  "Father"  filled 
me  with  awe. 

"Who  art  in  Heaven,  hallowed  be  Thy  name."  At  these  words 
a  holy  reverence  passed  through  my  whole  being. 

"Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
Heaven."  Like  the  angels  do  it  in  Heaven.  Then  I  thought, 
"  How  do  the  angels  do  God's  will.  Do  they  hesitate?  Do  they 
question?  Do  they  shrink?"  And  I  said  "No."  Swift,  prompt, 
loyal  obedience  by  angels,  and  I  asked  God  that  I  may  do  His  will 
on  earth  like  angels  do  it  in  heaven.  When  I  saw  this,  I  covered 
my  face  and  wept,  and  laughed;  so  simple,  and  so  great! 

"  Thy  will  be  done."  Oh!  that  word,  and  to  say  it  from  the 
heart.  When  you  stand  by  your  dear  ones  dying,  with  not  two 
dollars  for  funeral  expenses,  with  a  husband  and  father  away,  and 
when  he  might  have  come,  yet  did  not,  with  no  one  to  go  to,  when 
the  very  heavens  seemrd  brass,  and  the  earth  iron,  and  you  and 
your  own  body  exhaust«'d  from  hard  work  and  watching  day  and 
night,  and  with  but  little  food  to  sustain  the  body,  then  to  say,"  Thy 
will  be  done,"  from  the  heart,  is  more  than  all  burnt  offerings  and 
sacrifice;  and  this  prayer  prayed  from  the  heart,  is  what  is  meant 
by  being  entirely  and  wholly  sanctified.  I  did  not  understand  this 
when  I  first  learned  it,  but  the  time  came  a  few  months  after. 

(121) 


133  Autobiography  op 

Tho  Lord  took  from  me  my  dear  little  Will.  He  was  the 
brightest  and  most  promising  of  all  the  five  children  I  had  had, 
and  when  he  was  but  three  days  old,  I  got  on  my  knees  by  my 
bedside  and  consecrated  him  to  God.  I  had  not  done  so  with  the 
others,  and  I  thought  it  was  why  the  Lord  took  them  away,  but  I 
did  not  know  about  consecrating  children  to  God,  only  in  baptism. 
Now  I  saw  afterward  there  was  selfishness  in  it,  though  I  was 
really  sincere.  I  did  this,  thinking  the  Lord  would  not  take  him. 
Then  I  promised  I  would  train  him  prayerfully,  and  he  should  be 
a  preacher  of  the  Gospel.  I  said:  "  Lord,  I  give  him  to  Thee,  and 
I  hold  myself  just  as  Thy  servant,  to  raise  him  for  Thee;  he  is  not 
mine,  I  give  him  wholly  to  Thee,  and  now  help  me  to  raise  him. 
When  he  is  five  years  old  I  will  have  him  reading,  and  I  will  work 
day  and  night  to  give  him  an  education." 

When  I  got  through  with  my  prayer  I  arose  and  lay  down 
again.  He  grew  and  thrived  beautifully  till  he  was  five  months 
old.  Oh,  how  bright  he  was.  He  had  had  several  little  sick  turns, 
but  I  never  once  thought  he  would  die,  because  I  had  given  him 
to  the  Lord  so  fully,  and  now  the  Lord  will  let  me  have  him.  One 
morning  I  had  cleaned  up  my  room,  and  had  my  tubs  all  ready  to 
go  to  washing,  for  this  I  always  did,  so  that  my  house  was  in 
order  if  any  one  should  come  in.  The  next  was  to  give  my  baby 
his  bath  and  make  him  comfortable.  Just  after  I  had  done  this 
and  laid  him  down  on  the  sofa,  and  emptied  his  bath,  he  seemed 
perfectly  well  and  was  crowing  and  so  bright.  His  sister,  Mazie, 
was  getting  ready  for  school,  and  was  calling,  saying:  "  Be  good, 
Will,  till  I  come  back."  All  at  once  she  called  out  to  me:  "Oh 
Ma,  look  at  Will,"  and  he  was  stiff  in  a  fit,  and  there  was  froth  on 
his  mouth  and  he  was  black  in  the  face.  My  kettle  of  wash  water 
was  on,  and  in  a  moment  I  had  him  another  bath  ready.  I  stripped 
him.  There  was  no  one  to  call,  I  never  lost  my  presence  of  mind  a 
moment.  I  put  him  in  his  bath.  I  did  not  forget  to  put  in  the 
water  a  handful  of  salt  and  a  little  mustard.  I  don't  know  how  I 
did  it,  God  kept  me  so  still  in  my  soul.  He  soon  came  out  of  his 
spasm  when  I  put  him  in  the  warm  water.  The  dear  little  fellow, 
the  first  thing  he  did  was  to  look  up  and  say,  "  Mama,"  and  pat 
me  on  the  cheek  with  his  little  hand.  He  seemed  all  right  and  I 
dressed  him  and  laid  him  down  and  went  to  my  washing.  He 
slept  and  took  hi.-:  food  as  usual  till  several  days  had  passed,  then 
he  seemed  poorly  and  fretful,  and  I  took  him  to  a  doctor;  he  pre- 


Amanda  Smith.  l"^-^ 

8Crib«'d  tor  him  and  said  ho  wouhl  be  all  right  in  a  few  days;  but 
anothiT  spasm.  Then  for  five  lonj,'  wcoks  I  workrd  and  watchrd 
and  novcr  took  otr  my  clothes,  only  to  cliangc  them.  I  did  every- 
thing I  could;  had  no  one  to  help;  had  to  do  my  washini,'  between 
times  as  I  could.  It  never  entered  my  thouglits  that  he  would  die. 
One  "Wednesday  morning,  I  had  been  watching  all  night;  he  was 
restless,  but  I  liad  got  him  quiet  about  five  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
I  stole  away  from  him  to  finish  hanging  up  my  last  clothes  and 
finish  my  work.  About  six  o'clock  he  awoke  Jind  cried,  and  I 
would  call  to  him. and  he  would  wait  to  see  If  I  was  coming  and 
then  he  would  cry  again.  I  would  say:  "Hold  on,  Will,  I  am 
coming."  Oh,  how  I  worked!  I  had  to  work  quick.  When  I  got 
through  I  went  to  take  him  up.  I  found  he  had  kicked  off  one 
of  his  little  socks.  I  picked  it  up  cheerfully  and  said,  "  Oh,  Will, 
you  have  lost  one  of  your  boots,  old  man."  When  I  went  to  put  it 
on  I  saw  his  little  foot  was  swollen  on  top.  I  knew  what  that 
meant;  an  arrow  went  through  my  heart,  and  I  could  hardly  lift 
him  from  the  bed.  I  tried  to  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done,"  but  I  could 
not.  I  thought,  "  After  all,  the  Lord  is  going  to  take  him,  and  I 
can't  say  'Thy  will  be  done.'  " 

I  had  heard  of  a  wonderful  doctor  for  children,  a  lady.  I 
thought  I  would  try  this  new  doctor  I  took  him  in  my  arms,  and 
when  I  got  to  the  doctor's  I  could  not  speak  a  word.  She  looked 
at  him  and  said  to  me,  "You  must  not  feel  so  bad,  his  eyes  are 
bright,  and  I  think  he  will  be  bett-i  in  a  few  days; "  but  I  knew 
the  sign  of  his  feet  was  no  mistake.  I  paid  her  one  dollar,  and  a 
dollar  and  a  half  for  the  prescription,  and  had  but  fifty  cents  left; 
all  I  had  in  the  world.  I  went  home  and  did  as  I  was  told,  but  I 
could  not  say  "Thy  will  be  done."  Oh!  the  agony  of  my  soul. 
The  Lord  sent  a  dear  friend  in  Minte  Corsey.  Oh,  how  glad  I  was 
she  came.  She  lived  at  service  and  could  only  stay  a  day  or  two, 
but  this  was  a  great  help  to  me.  Friday  morning  came,  still  I 
could  not  say,  "Thy  will  be  done."  I  wanted  to  say  it,  and  then 
I  resolved  that  I  would  neither  eat  nor  drink  until  I  could,  from 
my  heart,  say,  "  The  will  of  the  Lord  be  done'."  It  took  me  from 
Thursday  till  Friday  afternoon  about  three  r.  m.  I  got  the  victory. 
While  I  was  alone  pleading  with  Ood  for  power  to  say,  "  Thy  will 
be  done,"  all  at  once  my  heart  seemed  to  sink  into  a  deep  quiet, 
and  1  said,  "Lord,  Thou  hast  helped  me,  and  I  can  say,  *  Thy 
will  be  done.    "     Oh,  how  sweet  it  was;  it  seemed  to  m*-   1  could 


124  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OP 

taste  it;  it  was  sweet  as  honey;  and  a  voice  seemed  to  reason, 
••Now,  Amanda,  you  can  have  your  choice,  if  you  say  the  life  of 
your  child  you  may  have  it  as  easy  as  turning  your  hand,"  and  I 
said,  •  Lord,  Thy  will  is  so  sweet,  I  only  want  Thy  will;  **  and  it 
came  again,  ••Whatever  you  desire  it  is  only  to  say,"  and  I 
said  again,  ••Oh,  Lord,  Thy  will  is  so  sweet,  I  only  say  Thy  will 
be  done."  Then  the  joy  sprang  up  in  my  heart.  I  was  filled  with 
joy,  and  I  went  out  of  that  room  saying,  "  Victory,  victory,  thanks 
be  to  Go.d,  He  giveth  victory.  Hallelujah!  " 

This  was  Friday  afternoon  about  four  o'clock.  About  two 
o'clock  the  next  morning  little  Will  fell  asleep  in  Jesus,  in  my 
arms.  I  washed  the  little  body  and  laid  it  out  myself;  laid  him 
on  the  little  stand.  No  tears;  God  seemed  to  dry  them  up  with 
joy!    O,  the  greatness  of  His  peace  that  passeth  understanding! 

Saturday  morning  I  don't  know  how  I  got  my  clothes  home, 
but  I  did.  1  got  a  young  man  to  go  for  my  husband,  who  was  at 
New  Utrecht,  not  far  from  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  I  had  but  two  dollars, 
that  had  come  in  from  my  washing,  and  I  wondered  what  I  would 
do,  but  my  husband  would  be  home,  and  I  thought  I  could  leave 
that.  Just  then  a  flood  of  sadness  seemed  to  fill  my  heart.  I  could 
not  understand  it.  I  was  sick  and  weak,  and  I  said  it  is  because  I 
have  lost  so  much  rest.  I  sent  my  little  girl  to  tell  some  friends  to 
come  in,  and  they  sent  word  it  was  Saturday  and  they  were  all 
busy,  so  no  one  came.  I  lay  down  a  few  moments,  then  I  'broke 
into  a  flood  of  tears.     •'  Lord,  help  me!"  I  said. 

About  ten  o'clock  the  young  man  came  back,  whom  I  sent  to 
see  my  husband.  He  sent  word  he  was  sick  himself,  and  could 
not  come,  and  had  no  money.  I  felt  I  must  sink.  1  said,  "O, 
Lord,  help  me!"  I  was  so  weak  I  had  to  lie  down  three  times 
before  I  could  get  properly  dressed,  as  I  must  go  out  in  the  street. 
I  thought  I  would  go  and  see  a  lady  with  whom  I  used  to  live, 
away  uptown,  Fortieth  street  and  Madison  avenue.  I  thought  if 
they  could  help  me  get  my  baby  buried,  I  would  ciean  house  to 
pay  them  again.  While  I  was  getting  ready  to  go,  my  dear  friend, 
Sister  Nancy  Thompson,  who  lived  in  Clinton  court,  near  Eighth 
Street,  sent  a  messenger  to  say  I  must  come  to  her  house  at  once. 

••O,"  I  said,  •  I  can't,  1  must  go  uptown,"  but  the  child 
would  not  go  without  me. 

She  said,  ••  Auntie  Thompson  says  I  must  not  come  without 
you,"  and  I  went  with  the  child.     I  thought  after  I  had  seen  her. 


Mazie  D.  Smith. 


Amanda  Smith.  12d 

then  I  would  jxo  on  uptown.  When  I  saw  this  dear  fri<iid,  Sistor 
Thompson,  shr  said,  "  Smith,  I  h»ar  your  baby  is  dead."  I  said, 
"Yes." 

She  said,  "  If  twenty  doUars  will  help  you,  I  can  let  you  hi.^t 
it."     And  I  saw  God,  and  wept! 

"Sometimes,  'mid  scenes  of  deepest  gloom, 
Sometimes  where  Eden's  bowers  bloom, 
By  waters  still,  o'er  troubled  sea, 
Still  'tis  God's  hand  that  leadeth  me."     Amen. 

Dear  Sister  Nancy  Thompson  has  gone  to  Heaven  out  of  great 
tribulation,  last  January.  God  was  so  good  to  bring  me  back  from 
Africa  to  see  her  and  pray  and  praise  with  her  on  earth  before  hv 
took  her  to  himself. 

"There  the  wicked  cease  from  trouble; 
There  the  weary  are  at  rest."     Amen. 

I  went  home  and  sent  olT  to  make  arrangements  for  the  funeral 
on  Sunday.  The  undertaker  was  kind.  I  told  him  just  my  situa- 
tion. I  said  if  you  will  take  fifteen  dollars  I  will  pay  you  the 
other  fifteen  in  a  week.  He  said  he  had  a  bill  to  pay  next  Thurs- 
day and  if  I  would  let  him  have  it  by  then,  he  would  do  what  he 
could.  I  told  him  I  thought  I  could  do  it.  O,  how  the  Lord  did 
help  me.  He  was  so  reasonable.  God,  I  know,  was  in  it  all.  On 
Sunday,  at  one  o'clock,  the  funeral.  I  waited  for  my  husband  till 
after  three,  then  they  said  if  we  did  not  go  the  gates  would  be 
closed  and  I  would  have  to  come  back  with  the  body.  O,  I  was 
so  alarmed.  I  did  not  know  this.  So  the  undertaker  himself 
said,  "I  think  I  had  better  go  myself."  So  he  got  on  beside  the 
driver,  and  they  drove  very  fast  and  we  got  there  just  as  they  were 
closing  the  gates,  and  but  for  the  undertaker's  being  with  us  we 
would  have  had  to  bring  back  the  lifeless  little  body.  I  thought 
my  husband  would  meet  me  at  the  cemetery,  as  it  was  but  a  short 
distance  from  where  he  lived.  I  hoped  he  would  be  able  to  com«' 
that  far;  but  no,  he  was  not  there.  O,  I  could  not  describe  the 
feelings  of  that  hour.  God  held  me  Himself.  I  thanked  the  kind 
undertaker,  and  we  got  home  about  half  past  six  o'clock. 

It  was  the  Quarterly  Meeting  Sunday  at  the  A.  M.  E.  Church 
on  Sullivan  street.  I  knew  I  had  many  friends  there.  Brotlwr 
George  Smith  was  always  a  good  friend.     He  was  the  Chairman 


126  Autobiography  of 

of  the  Board  of  Trustees.  I  went  to  him,  and  as  I  was  an  honora- 
ble member  of  the  church,  and  had  always  done  my  dut}-  as  fara8 
I  was  able,  financially  and  otherwise,  I  told  him  just  my  situation, 
and  asked  him  if  he  would  be  kind  enough  to  state  it  and  ask  the 
people  for  a  collection  of  fifteen  dollars,  that  I  might  pay  the 
undertaker.  He  did  so,  and  there  was  a  cheerful  response  and 
about  twenty  dollars  was  given,  but  as  I  had  said  fifteen,  I  got 
that  and  no  more.  I  was  thankful  for  that.  I  went  on  Tuesday 
and  paid  the  bill,  and  got  the  receipt.  O,  what  a  burden  was 
lifted  from  my  heart.  The  underiaker,  too,  was  glad,  and  thanked 
me  and  said,  "Mrs.  Smith,  you  have  done  well." 

All  that  fall  and  winter  was  deep  trial,  and  O,  what  lessons 
He  taught  me  of  Himself.  Praise  His  name.  The  summer  came 
and  I  went  to  Long  Branch  tp  work.  I  thought  it  would  do  me 
good,  as  I  was  very  much  run  down.  Still  deeper  trials  came,  and 
various.  I  was  at  Congress  Hall,  Mr.  Laird's.  He  and  his  wife 
were  very  nice.  The  housekeeper  that  had  charge  of  the  hiring 
of  most  of  the  women  help  was  from  Philadelphia.  She  was  a 
Miss  Jordan.  She  had  power  to  discharge  any  that  did  not  suit 
her.  She  would  give  them  an  order  to  the  office  and  they  were 
paid  off  and  discharged' — chambermaids,  scrubbers  and  laundry 
women.  I  went  as  private  laundress  for  the  family  of  four,  and  if 
I  chose  to  assist  when  there  was  a  rush,  all  right.  The  wages  were 
fair,  and  I  could  take  my  little  girl,  and  I  went  in  the  laundry. 
There  were  many  professing  Christians,  but  one,  a  quiet  and 
elderly  person,  who  was  living  on  good  works  of  her  own,  and 
looking  and  stumbling  at  the  inconsistency  of  others  who  professed 
to  be  Christians.  The  head  laundress,  whom  I  had  known  in 
Philadelphia  for  years,  was  a  good  church  member,  and  I  thought 
a  good  Christian,  but  I  found  things  were  different.  I  would  do 
all  my  work  and  would  always  help  with  the  sheets  and  pillow- 
cases or  towels  or  table  cloths,  whatever  was  the  need,  but  alwayp 
got  through  so  as  to  go  to  church  on  Sunday.  I  found,  after  the 
first  two  Sundays,  it  was  giving  offense,  and  there  was  much  crit- 
icism and  talk  about  some  people  who  had  so  much  religion  they 
could  go  to  church  and  couldn't  work  on  Sunday.  They  would 
say,  "I  came  down  here  to  work;  I  go  to  church  at  home." 

I  said  nothing,  but  felt  sad.  Ever}'  day  at  twelve  o'clock  j 
would  run  up  in  my  room  just  over  the  laundry  and  pray.  I  never 
was  over  five  minutes,  so  as  not  to  be  missed.    Remarks  began  to 


Amanda  Smith.  127 

be  made  about  this:  "I  can't  fs;vi  time  to  slt'cp.  Some  ppopk* 
can  stop  and  ^o  to  sleep.  I  came  here  to  work."  I  said  nothing'. 
One  day  just  as  I  got  on  my  kne<'S,  some  one  of  them  came  up  and 
opened  thf  door,  and  stM'inir  me  on  my  kne«'s,  shimmrd  th*;  door 
and  went  down  hlugi)in«,^  "  Somi'  peopk'  j;«'t  on  their  knet^-s  to 
slei'p,  pretending;  to  be  prayin«:."     Then  tlic  hiuj^liter. 

I  came  down  but  said  nothing,  not  a  word.  So  Miss  J.,  thu 
housekeeper,  was  informed.  She  was  always  very  nice  to  me, 
but  this  time  she  came  storming  in  the  laundry  and  said,  *'Mrs. 
Smith,  you  will  have  to  help  with  the  sheets  and  table-cloths." 

"All  right,"  I  said,  and  when  I  got  through  I  would.  I  would 
get  up  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning;  by  seven  I  would  hav.; 
twenty  or  thirty  sheets  out  on  the  line.  I  did  not  talk.  By  and  by 
some  one  would  call  out,  "Miss  J.  says  no  one  out  of  the  laundry 
will  go  to  church  on  Sunday;  she  is  not  going  to  have  it.  What 
will  you  do,  Mrs.  Smith?" 

I  said,  "Well, Sunday  is  not  here,  yet;  we  will  see  when  it  comes.  ' 

Then  I  saw  several  of  them  took  in  washing  to  make  extra 
money  —  white  pants,  coats  and  vests.  I  would  do  all  my  work, 
then  they  would  ask  me  to  help.  I  did  help  to  iron  several  times, 
till  eleven  o'clock  one  Saturday  night,  then  I  quit.  I  felt  it  was 
not  right,  and  saw  why  they  really  had  to  work  on  Sunday  —  not 
that  Mr.  Laird  required  it  —  and  when  I  saw  this  I  resolved  by 
the  grace  of  God  I  would  not  be  a  party  to  their  maneuvers.  Sun- 
day came.  Every  eye  was  on  me  to  see  what  I  was  going  to  do. 
I  didn't  say  anything;  I  went  on  as  usual  getting  ready,  and  went 
upstairs.  I  watched  my  chance  and  found  Miss  J.  in  another  part 
of  the  house,  out  from  the  laundry,  and  I  went  to  her.  I  had 
I)ruy('d  that  the  Lord  would  help  me  to  speak  to  her  and  make  her 
willing  to  hear,  for  as  a  general  thing  she  didn't  stop  to  hear  what 
you  said  when  she  had  made  up  her  mind  you  must  do  .something. 
So  I  met  her  in  the  hall  of  the  big  house  and  I  went  up  to  her  and 
said,  "Miss  Jordan,  I  want  to  go  to  church  this  morning.  The 
work  is  all  done  excepting  what  the  women  want  to  do  for  them 
selves,  and  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  and  she  said,  "Quite 
right,  Mrs.  Smith,  you  go  on;  don't  say  anything  about  it." 

I  went  down,  got  ready,  dressed  my  little  girl,  said  nothing  to 
anybody  at  all, —  didn't  say  what  I  had  said  to  Mi.ss  .hirdan,  didn't 
say  what  Miss  Jordan  said  to  me, —  and  went  to  church;  but  O, 
the  storm  of  remarks  and  criticisms. 


128  Autobiography  op 

As  I  sat  in  church  I  thought  to  myself,  "  I  don't  like  these 
surroundings,  I  don't  like  these  spirits;  I  don't  mean  to  get  into  a 
controversy  or  quarrel,  and  I  think  I  will  just  goon  Monday  morn- 
ing to  Mrs.  Laird  and  tell  her  that  I  will  go  home,"  and  I  sat 
looking  to  the  Lord  about  it.  This  was  before  the  service  began. 
By  and  by  the  services  began.  The  Rev.  Dr.  Stratton  was  the 
pastor,  and  announced  the  first  hymn,  which  was, 

"Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears — " 
I  shall  never  forget  it  — 

"  Give  to  the  winds  thy  fears, 
Hope  and  be  undismayed; 
God  knows  thy  sorrows,  counts  thy  tears, 
God  shall  lift  up  thy  head." 

I  praised  him,  and  said,  "Lord,  if  you  will  help  me,  I  will 
stick." 

One  day  I  was  very  much  tried  again,  and  was  really  depressed 
in  spirit.  I  tried  to  be  kind  to  everybody,  and  as  accommodating 
as  I  could.  I  had  not  had  a  word  with  anybody',  didn't  want  to, 
and  didn't  mean  to,  though  they  had  tried  in  various  ways  to 
draw  me  into  little  spats,  but  the  Lord  saved  me  and  gave  me 
grace.  One  day  I  was  feeling  a  good  deal  depressed  and  cast  down, 
because  I  could  not  understand  why  there  should  be  so  much 
unpleasantness;  there  was  no  necessity  for  it,  as  I  could  see.  I 
went  up  and  knelt  down  to  pray,  feeling  that  I  must  leave,  yet  I 
needed  the  means;  I  needed  the  money.  While  I  was  praying  and 
asking  the  Lord  to  help  me  and  show  me  what  to  do,  it  seemed  as 
though  an  angel  stood  by  me.  His  wings  were  plumed,  and  the 
ends  seemed  to  be  tipped  with  fire.  It  was  a  beautiful  sight,  a 
beautiful  vision,  and  seemed  very  clear  to  my  mind;  and  I  said, 
"Lord,  what  does  this  mean?"  and  these  words  came  to  me: 
"The  wings  of  Hope  and  arms  of  Faith  shall  bear  you  conqueror 
through."  I  thanked  the  Lord  and  rose  from  my  knees  and  went 
down  to  my  work.  I  said  nothing  to  anyone.  I  went  to  Mrs. 
Laird  and  said  to  her,  "  Mrs.  Laird,  I  think  I  will  go  home;  I  don't 
like  the  unpleasantness;  I  think  a  good  deal  of  it  unnecessary;  I 
have  nofi  been  accustomed  to  having  words  or  quarreling,  and  it 
makes  me  feel  very  bad;  I  think  I  had  better  go  home." 

She  said,  "  You  do  the  clothes  very  nicely,  and  Mr.  Laird  and 


Amanda  Smith.  129 

I  like  you  very  much  —  like  your  work.  '  And  I  said,  "  I  don'l  wanl 
to  have  any  words  wiih  Miss  Jordan."  She  says,  "Never  mind 
Miss  Jordan.  You  need  not  mind  anything  Mary  Jordan  says  to 
yoa;  you  comt-  to  me.  You  just  go  right  on  with  your  work,  and 
il  you  are  disturbed,  come  to  me." 

I  thanked  hrr  and  went  back  to  my  wcik.     I  said  nothing  to 
anyone.     I  stayed  until  the  whole  house  was  closed  for  the  season. 

So  the  Lord  brought  me  olf  more  than  conquerer.     That's 
just  like  Him.     Blessed  be  His  name! 

"  For  this  is  the  will  of  God,  even  your  sanctification."     As  I 
thought  it  over,  I  reasoned  like  this:   "If  my  father  when  he 
died,  had  left  me  heir  to  a  certain  amount,  or  estate,  why,  I  should 
have  claimed  it.     And  if  there  were  other  heirs,  and   they   had 
tried  to  get  it  from  me,  I  would  have  contended  for  my  rights  out 
of  the  will.     And  as  it  was  in  my  father's  will,  the  law  would  have 
justified  me  in  so  doing."     As  I  thought  it  all  over,  I  remembered 
reading  in  the  papers  a  suit  in  the  Orphans'  Court  at  Brooklyn  just 
at  that  time.     So  it  all  seemed  plain  to  me.     When  Satan  would 
suggest,  "You  cannot  expect  such  a  blessing,"  I  stood  on  these 
wo°rds,  "But  it  is  the  will  of  God.     He  is  my  Father.     And  He 
said  in  His  inspired  word,  through  His  Apostle  Paul,  it  is  the  will 
of  God.     And  I  am  one  of  His  legitimate  children  and  a  rightful 
h.  ir,  and  I  propose  to  have  my  rights  out  of  the  will,  if  all  the 
rest  of  the  Ivrrs  get  offended."     When  I  anchored  there,  somehow 
I  seemed  to  get  help.     No  matter  how  the  Tempter  would  come, 
I  stuck  to  the  word,  and  would  say,  "But  it  is  the  will  of  God." 
And  it  seemed  every  time  I  would  say  it,  it  was  like  a  girdle  to 
my  faith.     Oh!  how  Satan  hates  to  have  you  believe  God.     How 
he  tries  to  wrest  His  word  from  your  grasp.     But  when  we  hold 
on  by  faith,  even  though  we  tremble,  how  we  honor  God,  and  how 
we  triumph  at  last.     Hallelujah!     Hallelujah!     Amen!     Fear  not, 
my  trembling  friend,  whoever  you  are.      Believe  only,  and  thou 
Shalt  see  the  glory  of  God,  and  not  only  see,  but  feel  His  i>ower." 
It  was  in  the\vinter  of  1869,  in  New  York.     We  were  holding 
revival  services  at  Bethel  Church,  Sullivan  street.  Rev.   Henry 
Davis,  pastor.     There  were  several  young  people  in  the  Sabbath 
School  who  were  converted.     Mazie  was,  I  believe,  soundly  con- 
verted.     She  gave  evidences  in  her  spirit  and   life  for  a  time, 
though  they  were  hard  days  for  us  then.     She  went  to  school,  and 
had  to  work  hard  at  home  as  well,  which  did  not  hurt  her.     She 


]30  Autobiography  ob^ 

always  could  sleep  well;  so  many  nights  when  I  would  be  Mashing 
or  standing  ironing  all  night,  she,  poor  child,  could  sleep.  Satur- 
day generally  was  a  hard  day;  she  had  to  carry  the  clothes  honie; 
we  could  not  afford  to  ride,  so  she  had  to  walk,  often  long  dis- 
tances. I  tried  to  help  her  in  her  religious  life  all  I  could.  We 
always  had  prayers  night  and  morning.  We  didn't  read  the  Bible 
at  night,  but  always  in  the  morning,  we  read  verse  about;  then 
we  would  sing  a  verse  of  a  hymn;  she  was  a  fine  alto  singer;  then 
I  would  pray.  The  third  or  fourth  morning  after  she  had  been 
converted,  I  said  to  her;  "Now,  Mazie,  the  Lord  has  converted 
you,  and  you  are  very  happy;  and  now  if  you  want  to  be  a  real, 
growing  and  strong  Christian,  j'ou  must  learn  to  pray." 

"Well,"  she  said,"  Ma,  I  do  say  my  prayers;  but  I  don't 
know  how  to  pray." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "if  you  ask  the  Lord  He  will  teach  jou  how 
to  pray;  so  the  sooner  you  begin  the  sooner  you  will  get  over  the 
embarrassment,  and  the  Lord  will  bless  you.  Now,  there  are  only 
two  of  us,  and  alwa^-s  when  we  kneel  to  pray  I  will  expect  you  to 
pray  first,  and  J.  will  follow.  Then  on  Saturday  night,  when  we 
have  our  little  prayer  meeting,  no  matter  who  is  here,  as  soon  as 
we  kneel  to  pray,  you  pray  first."  She  gave  a  little  sigh;  and  then 
we  knelt  down,  and  she  sighed  again.  I  knew  it  was  hard  for  her 
to  begin,  but  I  waited,  and  then  another  sigh;  then  in  her  childish 
way  she  begun  to  thank  the  Lord  for  what  He  had  done'for  her, 
and  ask  Him  to  teach  her  to  pray;  a  very  simple  little  prayer,  but. 
Oh,  so  earnest.  How  happy  she  was.  I  knew  she  would  be,  if 
she  would  be  praj'erful  and  obedient.  The  heavy  cross  was  taken 
up.  When  Saturda}^  night  came,  a  number  of  people,  perhaps 
six  or  seven,  came  in  to  have  a  little  prayer  meeting.  The  Lord 
had  made  this  clear  to  me,  that  I  was  to  have  a  prayer  meeting  at 
my  room  for  those  who  wished  to  draw  nearer  to  the  Lord.  I 
never  expected  to  do  anything  more  than  this.  But  after  He  had 
sanctified  my  heart  it  was  beginning  at  Jerusalem;  so  at  Jerusalem 
I  did  begin.  And  though  the  little  prayer  meeting  was  of  short 
duration,  yet  God  put  His  seal  on  it,  and  souls  were  blessed  and 
saved.     To  God  be  the  glory.     Amen!     Amen! 

My  object  in  having  Mazie  pray  first  at  this  meeting,  was,  I 
thought  after  she  had  carried  clothes  all  day,  and  done  other  work 
as  well,  that  the  child  was  very  tired  and  sleepy,  and  she  would 
likely  fall  asleep  on  her  knees  while  others  would  be  praying;  and 


Amanda  Smith. 


131 


I  knew  Iho  a-ar  Lord  would  not  bhiin.-  her  for  being  wrary  and 
Sleepy      Of     ours.',  I.  nrvrr  told  luT  why  I  did  it,  so  tliere  was  no 
Chance  of   h.r  taking  advantage  of  it.     But,  praise   the  Lord,  He 
blessed  hei   .nd  strengthened  her.     She  Si-emed  to  get  on  nicely; 
f->r-he  lov  d  the  Sabbath  School,  and  was  a  bright,  active  scholar, 
both  in  New  York,  and  Philadelphia,  where  she  joined  at  Allei: 
Ciiip.'l,  Rev   Mr   Whitney,  pastor.      As  she  had  stood  so  well  1 
thought  th  re  would  br  no  danger  of  her  being  influenced  at  a 
Catholic  ['•^hool.     And  then  they  told  me  she  could  have  her  Bible 
„nd   Uvmn  Book  just  the  same;  and  so  she  did  take  them  with 
hrr,  but  they  very  quietly  took  them  away  from  her  after  she  was 
llicre  a  while,  and  said  they  would  take  care  of  them  for  her,  and 
rr-iv-  her  such  a  nice  book  that  she  would  like  to  read,  about  some 
good  saint  or  sister;  and  as  she  was  so  fond  of  reading  she  accepted 
I*  -U  once.     But  she  never  saw  her  Bible  or  Hymn  Book  again  till 
Bhe  left.     Sending  mv  daughter  to  this  school  was  a  serious  mis- 
lake,  on  my  part,  and  one  that  is  iliade  by  many  parents  who  are 
if  norant,  as  I  was,  of  the  subtlety  of  Rome. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

MY    CALL    TO    GO    OUT  —  AN    ATTACK     FROM     SATAN  — HIS     SNARE 

BROKEN  —  MY  PERPLEXITY  IN   REGARD  TO  THE   TRINITY  — 

'MANIFESTATION  OP  JESUS  —  WAS   IT   A  DREAM? 

It  was  in  November,  1869.  God  had  led  me  clearly  up  to  this 
time  confirming  His  work  through  me  as  I  went  all  about — some- 
times to  Brooklyn,  then  to  Harlem,  then  to  Jersey  City.  All  this 
was  among  my  own  people,  and  our  own  colored  churches,  though 
I  often  went  beside  to  old  Second  Street,  Norfolk  Street,  Willett 
Street,  Bedford  Street,  and  to  different  white  Methodist  churches, 
to  class  meetings  and  prayer  meetings;  but  very  little  with  white 
peopl-e,  comparatively.  The  most  I  did  was  among  my  own 
people.  There  were  then  but  few  of  our  ministers  that  were  favor- 
able to  women's  preaching  or  taking  any  part,  I  mean  in  a  public 
way;  but,  thank  God,  there  always  were  a  few  men  that  dared  to 
stand  by  woman's  liberty  in  this,  if  God  called  her.  Among  these, 
I  remember,  was  Henry  Davis,  Rev.  James  Holland,  Rev.  Joshua 
"Woodland,  Rev.  Joseph  H.  Smith,  and  Rev.  Leonard  Patterson, 
and  others — but  it  is  different  now.  We  have  women  deaconesses, 
and  leaders,  and  women  in  all  departments  of  church  work.  May 
God  in  mercy  save  us  from  the  formalism  of  the  day,  and  bring  us 
back  to  the  old  time  spirituality  and  power  of  the  fathers  and 
mothers.  I  often  feel  as  I  look  over  the  past  and  compare  it  with 
the  present,  to  say:  "Lord,  save,  or  we  perish." 

As  the  Lord  led,  I  followed,  and  one  day  as  I  was  praying  and 
asking  Him  to  teach  me  what  to  do  I  was  impressed  that  I  was  to 
leave  New  York  and  go  out.  1  did  not  kiiow^  where,  so  it  troubled 
me,  and  I  asked  the  Lord  for  light,  and  He  gave  me  these  words: 
" Go,  and  I  will  go  with  you."  The  very  words  he  gave  to  Moses, 
so  many  years  ago. 

I  said,  "  Lord,  I  am  willing  to  go,  but  tell  me  where  to  go  and 
(132) 


Amanda  Smitu.  133 

I  will  obey  Thee;"  and  clear  and  plain  the  word  came,  "Salem!  " 
I  said,  "Salem!  why,  Lord,  I  don't  know  anybody  in  Salem.  O, 
Lord,  do  help  me,  and  if  this  is  Thy  voice  speaking  to  me,  make 
it  plain  where  I  shall  go."     And  again  it  came,  "  Salem." 

"  O,  Lord,  Thou  knowest  I  have  never  been  to  Salem,  and  only 
have  heard  there  is  such  a  place." 

I  remembered  that  five  years  before  while  living  in  Philadel- 
phia, 1  was  at  Bethel  Church  one  morning,  and  the  minister  gave 
out  that  their  quarterly  meeting  was  to  be  held  at  Salem  ihe  next 
Sunday.  1  could  not  go— I  was  at  service— this  was  all  that  I  had 
heard  about  Salem,  or  knew.  I  said:  "O,  Lord,  don't  let  Satan 
deceive  me,  mak<i  it  very  plain  to  me,  and  if  this  is  Thy  voice, 
speak  again  to  me,  do  Lord,  make  it  clear,  so  as  to  make  me  under- 
stand it,  and  I  will  obey  Thee.  Now,  Lord,  I  wait  to  hear  Thee 
speak  to  me,  and  tell  me  where  to  go,"  and  I  heard  the  word 
coming,  I  was  afraid,  it  seemed  as  though  the  Lord  would  strike 
me  down,  and  I  drew  down  as  though  to  hide,  and  the  word  came 
with  power,  "Salem,"  and  I  said,  "Lord,  that  is  enough,  I 
will  go." 

A  few  weeks  passed.  O,  how  I  was  tested  to  the  very  core  in 
every  way.  My  rent  was  five  dollars  a  month,  and  I  wanted  to 
pay  two  months  before  I  'went.  I  prayed  and  asked  the  Lord  to 
help  me  to  do  this.  It  was  wonderful  how  He  did.  I  needed  a 
pair  of  shoes.  I  told  the  Lord  I  was  willing  to  go  with  the  shoes 
I  had  if  He  wanted  me  to,  but  they  were  broken  in  the  sole,  and  I 
said:  "Lord,  Thou  knowest  if  I  get  my  feet  wet  I  will  be  sick; 
now,  if  it  is  Thy  will  to  get  the  shoes,  either  give  me  some  work 
to  do  or  i)Ut  it  in  the  heart  of  somebody  to  give  me  the  money  to  get 
the  shoes."  And  these  words  came  from  God  to  my  heart:  "If 
thou  canst  believe;  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believi-th." 
And  I  said,  "Lord,  the  shoes  are  mine,"  and  I  put  them  on  as 
really  as  ever  I  put  on  a  pair  of  shoes  in  my  life!  O,  how  real  it 
was.  I  claimed  them  by  faith.  When  I  got  up  I  walked  about 
and  felt  I  really  had  the  very  shoes  I  had  asked  for  on  my  feet.  O, 
how  v.-ry  true  that  blessed  promise— "What  things  so  ever  ye 
desire,  when  ye  pray,  believe  that  ye  receive  them  and  ye  shall 
have  them."     I  know  that  truth.     Hallelujah! 

Some  three  days  after  I  said  to  my  friend,  Sister  Scott,  "  I 
want  to  go  to  Seventh  street  before  I  go  away,  for  I  have  promised 
some  friends  ever  since  the  Sing  Sing  Camp  Meeting,  and  1  have 


134  Autobiography  op 

never  had  the  chance  to  go,  and  I  must  go  be.ore  I  leave."  The 
day  before  was  Thanksgiving  day,  and  I  was  over  in  Jersey  City 
helping  Brother  Lewis  He  had  a  meeting  in  the  church  on  that 
day,  so  at  Seventh  street  we  had  a  good  prayer  and  testimony 
meeting.  Rev.  John  Parker  was  pastor.  The  Lord  helped  me  to 
speak,  and  I  told  them  the  Lord  had  told  me  I  was  to  go  to  Salem, 
and  I  was  going,  and  I  had  only  come  to  say,  "  How  do  you  do,  and 
good-bye."  At  the  close  of  the  meeting  friends  gathered  around 
me  and  said,  "Why,  Sister  Smith,  where  were  you  yesterday? 
We  looked  for  you.  We  had  a  grand  Thanksgiving  sermon." 
Another  said,  "Come  to  my  class."  I  said,  "  Thank  you,  but  I 
can't  now;  you  must  wait  till  I  come  back;  I  have  got  orders 
from  above  to  go." 

As  dear  old  Father  Brummell  passed  out  he  said,  "  Good-bye, 
Sister  Smith."  He  shook  my  hand  and  put  something  in  it.  I 
thanked  him  and  put  it  in  my  pocket,  and  so  went  home.  As  I 
sat  by  the  fire  and  was  warming  myself —  I  had  read  my  chapter 
in  the  Bible,  and  I  was  sitting  thinking  about  the  meeting  —  I 
began  to  get  very  drowsy  and  sleepy.  "Well,  I  thought,  I  must 
get  ready  to  go  to  bed."  Just  then  the  thought  came  to  me, 
"You  had  better  see  what  that  money  is  Father  Brummell  gave 
to  you." 

"  Yes,"  I  thought.     "  I  had  forgot  that." 

I  put  my  hand  in  my  pocket  and  took  it  out;  there  was  one 
two  dollar  bill  and  three  one  dollar  bills.  I  spread  it  on  the  table 
and  counted  it.  It  was  the  first  time  I  ever  had  that  much  money 
given  me  in  my  life,  just  for  nothing,  like,  and  I  thought  I  must 
have  made  a  mistake  in  counting  it,  so  I  counted  it  again.  Yes, 
it  was  really  five  dollars.  Then  I  said,  "Surely  I  have  made  a 
mistake;  I  am  asleep,  I  guess;  "  so  I  rubbed  my  eyes  and  walked  up 
and  down  tlije  floor  and  went  back  and  counted  it  again.  Yes,  it 
really  was  five  dollars,  and  I  said,  "Well,  how  is  it?"  Just  then  a 
voice  whispered,  "You  know  you  prayed  about  your  shoes." 

"0,"I  shouted,  "Yes,  Lord,  I  remember  now.  Praise  the 
Lord!     O,  Praise  the  Lord!" 

I  was  so  happy  I  could  hardly  go  to  sleep.  It  was  the  Lord's 
doing,  and  it  was  marvelous.     Amen. 

After  I  had  decided  to  obey  the  call  and  was  getting  ready  to 
go,  Satan  fiercely  attacked  me  as  I  stood  ironing  and  praying 
earnestly  to  God.     He  said:     "When  Jesus  sent  out  His  disciples 


Amanda  Smith.  135 

He  sent  them  out  two  arui  two.  and  now  you  are  going  alone;  they 
will  say  you  are  goin^'  to  look  rt)r  a  husband,  like  others." 

Then  I  thought  of  several  that  I  knew  who  had  gone  out  and 
really  did  get  married,  after  a  time;  but  what  business  was  that 
tt)the  old  Accuser,  and  what  had  he  to  do  with  it?  But  the 
thought  was  so  foreign  from  me  that  I  cried  out,  "Thou  knowest 
that  is  a  lie.     Thou  knowest  I  only  want  to  do  God's  will." 

The  Tempter  harassed  me  so  that  I  set  my  iron  down  and  went 
into  the  room  and  got  on  my  knees  and  said,  "  Lord  help  me,  and 
choose  somebody  to  go  with  me,  if  Thou  dost  want  me  to  have  a 
com})anion.  Lord,  I  would  like  Sister  Scott  to  go;  I  know  her  and 
love  her;  we  could  get  on  so  nicely  together;  but  she  has  a  family 
and  she  cannot  go.  Then  there  is  Sister  Bright,  in  Philadelphia,.and 
others  I  know.  If  I  were  to  choose  them  we  might  not  be  con- 
genial spirits,  and  so  would  not  get  on  together;  so,  Lord,  if  Thou 
wilt  direct  me  to  whom  Thou  wouldst,  all  will  be  well;  and  now. 
Lord,  I  wait  before  Thee  earnestly  to»hear  Thy  word  to  me." 
And  these  words  of  Jesus  were  whispered  as  distinctly  as  a 
father's  voice  to  his  child,  and  it  said:  "  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  I 
would  go  with  you?"  And  in  a  moment  I  remembered  what  He 
had  said  before — "Go  and  I  will  go  with  you." 

"O,  yes,  Jesus,"  I  said;  "so  you  did."  I  had  forgotten  it; 
and  I  arose  filled  with  joy  and  peace.     Praise  the  Lord  for  victory! 

A  few  days  later  I  was  off  to  Salem,  New  Jersey.  I  stayed  a 
week  in  Philadelphia,  and  came  near  giving  up  and  not  going; 
notwithstanding  God  had  clearly  answered  prayer,  and  made  all 
so  plain  to  me.  O,  the  weakness  and  frivolity  of  poor  human 
beings.     Lord,  pity  us  for  Jesus'  sake.     Amen. 

Oh  I  how  much  one  has  to  unlearn  in  order  to  learn  God's  will 
more  perfectly.  I  left  New  York  for  Salem,  where  God  first  sent 
me,  in  November,  18C9,  and  returned  in  June,  During  these 
months  of  absence  my  friend.  Sister  Scott,  had  passed  through 
deep  trials  —  greatly  complicated  —  could  not  be  explained;  only 
those  that  have  had  them  know  about  them.  I  knew  a  good  deal. 
She  and  I  corresponded,  and  I  would  pray  and  advise  her  to  stand 
fast;  God  would  help  her.  But  things  got  worse,  and  I  think 
Satan  got  her  frightened.  Her  husband,  when  in  a  passion, 
would  make  threats  that  frightened  her.  When  she  wrote  to  me 
and  told  me,  I  said,  "The  Devil  wants  to  scare  you;  I  don't 
believe  anyone  is  going  to  kill  you;  stand  firm.'' 


136  Autobiography  op 

She  thought  I  ought  to  come  home  and  stand  by  her,  but  I 
knew  the  Lord  did  not  want  me  to  meddle  in  man  and  wife 
trouble,  so  it  was  all  right  I  was  away.  I  said,  "  Scott,  every  eye 
is  on  you  to  see  how  you  stand,  and  if  sanctifying  grace  is  good 
for  anything,  this  is  your  time  to  test  it.  Don't  you  leave  your 
home."  This  was  the  way  I  wrote,  and  I  think  it  was  not  what 
she  expected.  From  that  time  the  spirit  of  her  letters  to  me 
seemed  to  be  greatly  changed.  I  felt  she  was  not  the  same  in 
spirit.  Then,  encouraged  by  her  son  to  leave  her  home,  she  did  so 
and  moved,  with  the  three  children,  around  in  Minnetta  street. 
While  I  felt  she  had  changed,  I  loved  her  so  well  that  I  thought, 
"When  I  get  home  and  see  her  and  have  a  talk  I  can  explain  and 
clear  up  everything;  she  will  understand  me  and  will  soon  be  all 
right."  So  in  June  I  got  to  be  full  of  hope  and  expectation,  for  I 
did  not  think  I  could  live  in  New  York  without  the  former  friend- 
ship and  love  of  sister  S.  She  had  moved  from  Minnetta  street  to 
Dominick  street,  and  aftej-  I  had  got  a  little  straightened  up  in 
my  room  I  could  hardly  wait  to  see  her.  I  would  smile  to  myself 
and  think  how  glad  she  would  be  to  see  me,  and  what  she  would 
say;  and  it  was  all  so  real;  but  O,  imagine  my  disappointment 
and  surprise.  When  I  went  she  was  so  cool  and  formal.  O,  how 
my  heart  sank.  I  told  her  everything  that  I  knew  used  to  interest 
her.  She  listened,  and  I  saw  she  made  an  effort  to  be  herself,  and 
that  hurt  me  so;  I  knew  her  so  well.  I  told  her  why  I  wrote  to 
her  as  I  did,  and  I  thought  as  she  had  been  through  so  much  for 
so  many  years  she  might  have  stuck  to  it  a  little  longer,  and  I 
believed  God  would  have  helped  her  and  brought  her  out  con- 
queror. I  saw  that  the  Devil  had  made  her  believe  that  I  did  not 
care  for  her,  and  had  no  sympathy  for  her.  We  talked  till  twelve 
at  night;  then  as  we  always  prayed  when  we  met,  I  said  well,  let 
us  pray.  We  knelt;  I  prayed,  but  she  did  not.  I  went  out  with  a 
heavy  heart,  and  under  an  awful  temptation. 

•  'Oh!"  I  thought,  "if  Scott  has  turned  against  me  after  all  . 
these  years  of  helpful  friendship,  what  will  I  do? "  and  it  was  like 
Peter's  walk  on  the  water.  I  had  got  my  e3'e  off  of  Jesus,  and  I 
began  to  sink,  and  the  more  I  thought  of  it  the  deeper  I  went.  I 
called  again  and  begged  her  to  come  and  see  me.  I  ran  in  again, 
and  said,  "  I  have  been  wishing  j^ou  would  come,  that  we  might 
have  a  season  of  prayer  together,"  but  she  made  some  excuse, 
which  I  knew  was  not  like  my  old  friend.  How  I  wept  and  prayed; 


Amanda  b^Mirn.  137 

I  thought  it  would  kill  mr,  hut  I  sr.-  now  what  it  meant.  God 
was  to  soparatt'  mo  unto  Ilimsflf  and  1  must  be  woancd.  O,  what 
an  ordeal.  After  a  day  or  two  she  came  in.  I  was  ironing  and  she 
sat  down  on  the  doorstep.  "Oh,"  1  said,  "come  in,"  but  she  woultl 
m»t  and  went  away  without  saying  a  word  about  prayer,  and  I 
was  convinced  that  the  real  spirit  of  my  dear  friend  of  years  had 
irone  —  only  the  woman  was  there.  (),  the  sadness  of  that  otluT 
:  l)irit,  how  it  lingers  even  to  this  day.  1  tried  to  cast  my  bunbn 
on  the  Lord  with  fasting  and  weeping  and  praying,  but,  O,  foi- 
weeks  I  walked  in  darkness  and  Satan  accused  me.  I  looked  over 
my  mind  to  see  if  the  advice  I  had  given  was  the  cause,  no,  I  felt 
I  was  right.  Well,  to  go  and  keep  talking  and  trying  to  win  my 
tii(>nd  back  to  her  former  friendship  —  it  seemed  it  was  not  what 
the  Lord  wanted  me  to  do,  but  why  had  this  darkne.ss  settled  down 
over  my  spirit.  I  said,  "O  Lord,  help  me!"  I  did  not  seem  able 
to  pray,  I  seemed  to  have  no  spirit  in  me.  Yet  I  could  not  fvo\  any 
clear  condemnation,  but,  O,  what  a  state  I  was  inl  I  knew  I  had 
nt)t  taken  anything  back  from  God  of  my  consecration,  but,  O, 
what  was  the  matter  with  me,  I  could  not  tell.  Other  times  when 
1  would  have  these  trials  my  friend  would  come  and  wo  would 
pray  together  and  get  deliverance,  but  now,  not  a' soul  to  help  me, 
and  I  could  not  prevail.  There  are  times  when  one  needs  help 
to  prevail  with  God,  but  I  had  no  help,  and  the  Devil  said,  "You 
see,  if  you  were  sanctified  fully,  you  would  be  able  to  pray,  but 
you  have  grieved  the  Spirit  in  some  way,  and  this  is  why  God 
don't  answer  you." 

O,  how  real  it  all  seemed,  and  yet  somehow  I  knew  it  was  not 
so.  I  was  afraid  to  tell  anyone.  Satan  said,  "  If  you  tell  anyone 
they  will  think  you  have  backslidden,  you  never  heard  of  anyone 
who  was  sanctified  having  darkness  like  that." 

"No,  I  never  did."  So  I  went  to  meetings,  and  talk<'d  what  I 
knew  of  the  bright  side  for  fear  the  people  would  think  I  ha<l 
backslidden  sure  enough.  I  think  sanctified  i)eopl<'  ought  to  t»ll 
the  other  side,  for  it  is  no  sign  that  you  are  backsliding  when  there 
comes  a  shadow  over  your  Spirit,  even  after  you  are  wholly  sancti- 
fied; but  I  was  ignorant  and  did  not  know  that  these  questions 
were  from  the  Devil.  O,  how  he  can  transform  himself  into  an 
angel  of  light  to  deceive. 

My  little  girl  had  gone  to  live  in  Philadelphia  with  a  very  nice 
family,  and  I  was  very  busy  finishing  a  dress  so  as  to  send   it  to 


138  Autobiography  of 

her.  I  had  just  got  a  letter  from  her,  and  she  was  getting  along 
very  nicely.  As  I  sat  with  a  sad  heart  and  at  times  wishing  I 
really  could  condemn  myself  so  as  to  get  acc(iss  to  God,  for  I  felt  if 
I  could  feel  any  condemnation,  then  surely  I  could  pray;  all  at 
once  the  thought  came,  go  down  to  Dominick  street  to  Mrs.  Clark's 
holiness  meeting.  Sister  Clark  used  to  have  this  meeting  every 
Thursday  afternoon  at  her  house.  I  said,  "  O,  I  am  too  busy,  I 
want  to  get  this  dress  done,"  but  a  deep  conviction  took  hold  of  me 
and  I  felt  I  must  go,  so  I  got  up  and  went.  I  began  to  feel  a  little 
lighter.     I  said,  "I  guess  the  Lord  is  going  to  bless  me  to-day." 

I  went  into  the  meeting,  there  were  a  good  many  present,  and 
about  five  minutes  after  I  got  into  the  room  this  awful  avalanche 
of  darkness  came  over  me  again,  and  I  began  to  cr}-.  O,  how  bit- 
terly I  cried;  I  was  heartbroken.  The  hymn  was  given  out.  I 
was  sitting  by  Sister  Clark.  Just  before  the  last  verse  was  sung, 
the  Devil  said,  *'  Now  they  are  going  to  ask  you  to  pray,  and  you 
know  you  can't;  "  and  I  said,  "No,  I  can't  pray." 

Sure  enough,  when  they  knelt  down.  Sister  Clark  said  to  me, 
"Sister  Smith,  pray."  I  had  always  been  able  to  pray  before  and 
after  I  had  been  sanctified,  but  I  tried,  and  broke  down.  Some 
one  said,  "  Amen,  Lord,  bless  Sister  Smith," 

They  thought  I  had  got  blest  and  was  very  happy.  So  I  tried 
the  second  time  to  pray,  but  could  not.  Then  the  third  time, 
failed  again.     O,  I  could  not  pray. 

"Sister Clark,"  I  said,  "you  pray,  I  can't,"  and  she  did  pray,  as 
she  could  in  those  days,  for  she  used  to  be  mighty  in  prayer.  Then 
we  arose.  I  sat  and  sobbed  like  a  baby,  listened  to  the  testimonies 
and  hoped  for  just  a  ray  of  light  to  come  to  my  mind,  so  dark. 
After  several  had  spoken,  I  arose  and  made  a  confession  of  all  I 
knew.  T  had  gone  to  Philadelphia  to  see  my  sister  who  was  very 
sick  and  not  expected  to  live.  I  left  on  Saturday  night  by  the 
twelve  o'clock  train  and  got  in  five  o'clock  Sunday  morning;  left 
again  on  Sunday  night,  at  twelve,  got  to  Jersey  City  at  five  a.  m., 
so  the  Devil  had  told  me,  that  was  one  of  the  causes  of  the  dark- 
ness. Then  I  had  gone  out  without  taking  my  tracts  several  times, 
so  he  said  that  was  another  reason.  Then  I  used  to  get  up  and  pray 
once  or  twice  in  the  night,  but  I  had  not  done  that  for  several 
nights,  so  he  accused  me  of  that.  At  another  time,  after  I  had 
worked  hard  all  day,  I  was  tired,  and  after  I  had  read  my  Bible 
lesson  I  knelt  down  to  pray  and  fell  asleep  on  my  knees,  and  did 


Amanda  Smith.  139 

not  wakr  till  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning;  so  he  accused  me 
of  that,  but  wh.'ii  I  asked  the  Lord  to  forgive  me  for  all  of  th.-se, 
it  seemed  as  if  a  voice  would  say,  "  No,  that  is  not  it,"  and  I  said 
••Lord,  what  is  it?"  So  I  told  these  sisters  all  this.  ••And 
now,"  said  I,  "I  want  to  know  if  any  of  you  have  had  such  an 
experience,  for  I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter;  do  help  me  if  you 
can.     Do  sanctified  people  ever  havesuch  an  experience? " 

••No,"  they  said;  they  shook  their  heads  and  looked  very 
solemn,  and  I  sat  down,  and  each  sister  that  spoke  in  turn,  joined 
with  my  accuser  and  condemned  me.  They  said  that  no  doubt 
that  these  things  were  very  wrong  and  was  the  caus(!  of  this  dark- 
ness, and  strange  to  say  while  I  wanted  it  so,  yetsom«"thingse<'med 
to  say,  "  That  is  not  so, "and  I  felt  like  saying  to  «'ach  one  of  them 
as  they  spoke,  "  It  is  not  so." 

There  was  one  lady  who  sat  over  by  the  window.  I  shall  never 
forget  her,  though  I  can't  remember  her  name.  She  was  formerly 
from  England,  and  was  a  friend  of  Sister  Clark's.  She  had  very 
black  hair;  she  wore  it  very  plain,  two  little  puffs  <'ach  side;  I 
used  to  know  her  so  well  at  Mrs.  Palmer's  meeting  and  at  Round 
Lake  Camp  Meeting.  God  bless  her!  She  was  the  last  to  sixak 
that  day,  they  were  all  through  but  her,  and  all  had  condemned 
me,  but  when  she  rose  to  speak  she  looked  at  me  and  said  so 
sweetly  these  words  —  I  shall  never  forget  it,  she  said:  "  The  Lord 
has  a  controversy  with  Amanda  Smith,  and  it  must  be  settled 
between  her  and  Him  alone."  And  a  flash  of  light  went  through 
my  mind,  and  I  said,  "  Thank  you,  I  see  it."  God  showed  me  that 
instant  I  was  leaning  on  my  friend,  Sister  S.  O,  how  I  was  wrapped 
up  in  her,  but  the  snare  was  broken.  I  went  out,  my  captivity 
was  turned,  and  I  praised  the  Lord.  Wh«'n  I  got  home  I  got  on 
my  knees  and  thanked  God  for  the  light  to  show  me  where  I  was, 
and  then  with  tears  I  begged  the  Lord  to  cut  me  loose  from  Sister 
Scott.  I  said,  "  Lord,  it  almost  kills  me,  but  O,  deliver  me,  cut 
me  loose,  if  you  have  to  kill  me,  cut  me  loose." 

O,  what  a  dying  it  was!  It  seemed  my  heart  was  bound  around 
with  cords  and  to  let  go  would  take  my  life,  but  I  cried,  "  O,  Lord, 
cut  me  loose,"  and  it  was  as  though  someone  snai)p<<l  with  a  knife 
the  cords  around  my  heart,  and  I  breathed  freely,  and  said, 
••Thank  God  I  have  got  the  victory."  I  arose  and  praised  the 
Lord,  and  walked  up  and  down! 

I  was  just  going  to  sit  down  to  my  sewing  wlien  1  thought,  '•  I 


140  Autobiography  of 

must  go  out  and  get  a  postage  stamp  and  write  to  my  daughter 
to-night,  so  that  she  can  get  it  in  the  morning."  Out  I  started  to 
the  drug  store  on  the  corner  of  Fourth  street  and  Sixth  avenue. 
Just  as  I  turned  out  of  Amity  street  in  Sixth  avenue,  I  glanced 
over  the  way  on  Cornelia  street,  and  saw  a  person  who  looked  just 
like  my  friend  Sister  S.  She  seemed  to  look  at  me,  and  I  nodded 
my  head,  and  was  just  going  to  call  to  her,  when  she  quickly 
turned  her  head,  and  didn't  seem  to  see  me  at  all.  I  thought,  "  O, 
has  Scott  gotten  to  where  she  will  not  even  speak  to  me*^"  A 
pang  went  through  my  heart,  and  Satan  in  a  moment  said  dis- 
tinctly, "  You  have  got  no  joy  now." 

*'  No,"  I  said,  "not  a  bit." 

"You  are  not  happy,  either." 

"No,  it's  all  gone."  Then  in  a  tantalizing  manner  he  said, 
"Where  is  all  your  sanctification  and  holiness  that  you  have  been 
talking  jibout?"  And  then  for  the  first  time  I  clearly  realized 
that  it  was  Satan  himself  that  was  accusing  me,  and  I  said, 
"  Ah!  Ah!  Mr.  Satan,  it  is  you,  is  it?  Well,  now  look  here,  happi- 
ness or  no  happiness,  joy  or  no  joy,  sanctification  or  no  sanctifica- 
tion, I  belong  to  Jesus!  "  and  I  began  to  sing  this  hymn: — 

"  The  blood  of  Christ  it  cleanseth  me, 
It  cleanseth  me,  it  cleanseth  me, 
The  blood  of  Christ  it  cleanseth  me 
Just  now,  while  I  believe." 

I  did  not  sing  loud.  Some  gentlemen  and  ladies  were  passing 
me.  They  looked  at  me  rather  strangely.  As  I  sang  I  felt  that 
hateful  Satanic  influence  and  power  break  and  leave  me,  as  really 
as  I  ever  took  a  garment  and  laid  it  aside.  T  seemed  to  see  the 
Devil  in  the  shape  of  a  little  black  dog,  with  his  tail  between  his 
legs.  He  seemed  to  pass  me  down  Sixth  avenue.  I  don't  know 
where  he  came  from.  There  was  nobody  with  him,  but  just  as 
this  power  broke  I  saw  this  little  dog  pass. 

The  Lord  had  turned  my  captivity.  I  was  like  one  that 
dreamed.  My  mouth  was  filled  with  laughter;  I  could  not  stop~ 
I  went  into  the  drugstore,  and  the  man  in  the  store  saw  me  laugh- 
ing, so  he  fell  in  line  and  got  to  laughing  to;  he  was  stout,  and  he 
shook.  I  said,  "  O,  sir,  give  me  a  three-cent  stamp,"  and  I  laughed 
and  he  laughed,  and  I  went  out.  He  did  not  say  a  word  to  me, 
but,  O,  how  he  laughed.    So  did  I.     I  turned  to  go  home.     I  said, 


Amanda  Smith.  141 

"I  will  go  down  on  this  side  and  get  me  a  spool  of  cotton  while  I  am 
out,"  and  just  as  I  got  opijosite  where  I  was  attacked  by  Satan 
before,  he  had  crossed  over  and  was  on  the  other  side.  He  said, 
"O,  you  are  very  happy." 

'*Yes,  praise  the  Lord!" 

•♦You  don't  know  how  your  child  is  coming  on  in  Philadel- 
phia." 

"She  is  all  right;  I  just  had  a  letter." 

••O,  the  people  tell  you  that,  but  you  don't  know  if  it  is  true!" 

♦•O,  but  I  know  if  Mazie  was  not  all  right  she  would  tell  me." 

♦'  Well,  you  want  to  go  to  the  camp-meeting,  too,  and  you  have 
no  money." 

Then  I  recognized  that  old  Accuser  again,  and  I  said,  "Well. 

it  is  none  of  your  business,  I  belong  to  Jesus,"  and  I  began  to  sing 

again, 

*'  The  blood  of  Christ  it  cleanseth  me, 

Just  now,  while  I  believe," 

and  away  he  went,  my  adversary,  and  from  that  day  to  this  I  seem 
to  be  able  to  know  him  when  he  approaches,  no  matter  in  what 
shape  he  comes. 

If  you  keep  close  to  the  blood  he  soon  leaves,  and  nothing  will 
put  him  on  a  run  so  quickly  as  a  song  or  testimony  of  the  i)Ower 
of  the  blood. 

*'  Glory  to  the  blood  that  bought  me, 
Glory  to  its  cleansing  power. 
Glory  to  the  blood  that  keeps  me, 

Glory,  glory,  evermore." 

Amen!     Amen! 

Some  time  after  the  Lord  had  sanctified  my  soul,  I  became 
greatly  exercised  about  the  Trinity.  I  could  not  seem  to  under- 
stand just  how  there  could  exist  three  distinct  persons,  and  yet 
one.  I  thought  every  day  and  prayed  for  light,  but  didn't  seem 
to  get  help.  I  read  the  Bible,  but  no  help  came.  I  wanted  to  ask 
some  one,  but  I  was  afraid  they  would  misunderstand  me  and 
think  I  was  getting  fanatical,  as  that  spirit  was  being  developed  a 
good  deal  at  that  time.  Brother  Boole  was  pastor  of  Seventeenth 
Street  Church.  As  I  lived  in  New  York  I  thought  if  I  could  hear 
him  preach  on  the  bai)tism  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  I  would  get 
light  and  help,  but  the  Sunday  he  was  to  preach  on  this  very  sub- 
ject I  could  not  be  there.      I  was  engaged  at  Janes  Street  Church 


142  Autobiography  of 

with  Reverend  Doctor  Hamlin,  so  it  went  on  for  weeks  after.  I 
got  through  at  Janes  Street,  and  went  to  Williamsburg  to  help 
Brother  Hollis.  There  the  Lord  blessed  us  very  greatly.  The 
people  were  all  very  kind,  but  I  met  no  one  during  the  ten  days 
that  I  felt  I  could  trust  to  ask  for  this  explanation.  Brother 
Richard  Ryan  came  over  on  Sunday  afternoon,  and  he  gave  his 
experience  of  how  he  came  into  the  blessing  of  sanctification.  It 
was  blest  to  many  souls,  and  I  got  a  little  help  on  one  or  two  points, 
but  to  understand  the  Trinity  was  still  a  great  puzzle  to  me.  We 
closed  up  grandly  on  Sunday  night,  and  on  Monday  morning  I 
went  home  to  New  York,  135  Amity  street.  My  two  little  attic 
rooms  were  quite  dusty,  having  been  shut  up  for  two  weeks,  so  the 
first  thing  I  did  was  to  sweep  and  dust,  and  after  a  little  lunch  I 
said  I  will  wash  my  dishes  and  will  kneel  down  and  pray,  and  I  will 
stay  on  my  knees  till  the  Lord  makes  this  thing  clear.  I  had  the 
dish-cloth  in  my  hand,  and  as  I  walked  toward  the  window  a  voice 
seemed  to  speak  to  me  and  say,  "Every  blessing  you  get  from 
God  is  by  faith."  I  said,  "Yes, —  and  if  by  faith,  why  not 
now? " 

I  turned  around  and  knelt  down  by  an  old  trunk  that  stood  in 
the  corner  of  the  room,  and  I  told  the  Lord  that  I  wanted  to  under- 
stand the  Trinity,  and  that  I  was  afraid  of  fanaticism,  and  I 
wanted  Him  to  make  it  clear  to  me  for  His  own  sake.  I  don't 
know  how  long  I  prayed,  but  O,  how  my  soul  was  filled  with  light 
under  the  great  baptism  that  came  upon  me.  I  came  near  falling 
prostrate,  but  bore  up  when  God  revealed  Himself  so  clearly  to  me, 
and  I  have  understood  it  ever  since.  I  can't  just  explain  it  to 
others,  but  God  made  me-  understand  it  so  I  have  had  no  question 
since.  Praise  the  Lord!  Then  He  showed  me  three  other  things. 
O,  what  a  revelation.  The  wonderful  fatherhood  of  God,  the 
brotherhood  of  Jesus,  the  efficacy  and  broadness  of  the  atonement. 
It  seemed  to  sweep  hard  by  the  gates  of  hell.  I  saw  how  difficult 
it  was  for  a  soul  to  be  lost,  and  how  easy  it  was  to  be  deceived  by 
believing  in  universal  salvation  without  repentance.  I  was  awe- 
stricken  and  wept.  I  durst  not  move.  And  now,  as  I  think  of  it, 
I  seem  to  feel  the  great  waves  of  glory  mingled  with  awe  as  they 
surged  through  my  soul,  so  that  my  whole  being  seemed  to  throb 
with  love  and  praise.  All  the  points  on  these  lines  have  been  st't 
tied  since  that  time,  and  like  Elijah,  I  have  been  able  to  goon  iu 
the  strength  of  this  meat  for  more  than  forty  days. 


Amanda  Smith.  143 

My  soul  was  filled  with  His  love.  I  seemed  to  be  perfectly 
infatuated  with  Jesus.  I  said,  "O,  I  must  s»'e  Him  with  my  own 
eyes;  "  but  how?  I  said,  **  If  I  could  die  and  go  to  Him  I  would, 
but  suppose  I  should  live  twenty  years  and  have  to  wait  that  long 
before  I  could  see  Him." 

It  seemed  the  thought  was  more  than  I  could  bear,  so  I  began 
to  pray  this  prayer:  "O,  Lord  Jesus,  reveal  Thyself,"  and  I  said 
no  other  i)rayers  day  or  night  for  a  week.  This  one  desire  had 
eaten  me  u}).  I  had  three  Band  sisters.  We  usi'd  to  meet  once  a 
week.  I  was  afraid  to  tell  them  for  fear  they  mijjht  say  something 
to  deter  me,  so  when  any  one  came  to  see  me,  while  they  were 
talking  I  would  pray  in  my  heart  this  same  prayer,  "O,  Lord 
Jesus,  reveal  Thyself."  I  mourned  as  one  would  mourn  for  his 
mother.  I  wanted  to  see  Him  who  had  done  so  much  for  me.  I 
said,  "  I  must  see  Him,  but  how  long  must  I  wait?  "  A  week  had 
passed,  my  praying  heart  still  longing  to  see  Him.  Monday  morn- 
ing came.  I  went  from  place  to  place  to  gather  my  clothes,  pray- 
ing at  times,  then  wondering  and  now  weeping,  for  I  longed  to  see 
my  beloved  Christ.  Twelve  o'clock,  my  clothes  were  gathered, 
and  I  was  all  ready  to  begin  washing  on  Tuesday  morning  at  six 
o'clock.     Monday  afternoon  my  Band  met  at  my  house. 

As  I  had  a  baby  and  could  not  go  about  very  well,  the 
three  sisters.  Sister  Scott,  Sister  Banks  and  Sister  Brown,  all  came 
to  my  house;  but  this  day  not  one  of  them  came  but  Sister  Scott. 
She  was  a  deeply  pious  woman,  full  of  faith  and  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  was  greatly  crushed  in  her  home  life,  like  myself.  We 
stood  by  each  other  through  many  a  storm.  Praise  the  Lord!  It 
was  her  turn  that  afternoon  to  open  the  meeting.  We  generally 
took  turns  about;  one  would  open  by  giving  out  a  hymn,  reading 
a  chapter  and  then  praying.  Then  we  would  tell  each  other  our 
joys  or  sorrows,  our  victories  and  defeats,  if  we  had  any,  and  if 
Satan  had  buffeted  us,  how  we  bore  up  or  if  we  yielded  under  the 
pressure,  etc.,  and  then  we  would  advise  each  other  and  pray  for 
each  other.  Sister  Scott  seemed  to  know  so  well  how  to  approach 
the  Throne  of  Grace,  so  that  I  always  felt  she  would  get  hearing 
quicker,  so  I  was  glad  it  was  her  turn  to  pray  that  day,  and  all  the 
time  while  she  was  praying  the  one  cry  of  my  soul  was,  *'  O,  Lord 
Jesus,  reveal  Thyself."  We  kneeled  with  our  backs  to  each  other. 
Sister  Scott  did  not  know  what  I  had  been  praying  for,  and  while 
she  prayed,  all  at  once  the  room  seemed  to  be  filled  with  a  hul- 


144  Autobiography  op 

lowed  presence,  and  as  she  went  on  I  felt  she  had  got  hold  of  God; 
it  seemed  like  the  rustling  of  wings,  and  Sister  Scott  cried  out, 
•*0,  Lord  Jesus,  Thou  art  here."  And  He  was;  I  saw  Him;  He 
came  in  at  the  door;  it  was  open.  O,  can  I  describe  Him,  the 
lovely,  beautiful  Jesus!  He  seemed  to  stand  about  six  feet  high; 
loose  flowing  purple  robe;  His  hair  and  beardas  white  as  wool;  His 
beautiful  beard  covered  His  breast  to  his  waist;  His  face  was 
indescribably  lovely!  O,  it  almost  takes  my  breath  as  I  see  it  all 
over!  He  came  and  stood  by  my  side.  He  spoke  not  a  word,  but 
it  was  all  in  the  expression  of  His  lovely  face.  He  seemed  to  say, 
"Now  look  at  me;  will  that  satisfy  you?"  I  cried  out,  "Yes, 
Lord  Jesus,"  and  threw  out  my  arms  to  embrace  Him,  but  He 
vanished  out  of  my  sight.  O,  the  glory  of  that  hour  I  shall  never 
forget,  and  as  I  think  of  the  amazing  condescension  of  God  the 
Father  to  grant  such  a  petition  to  so  poor  a  worm  as  I,  it  seemed 
it  would  break  my  very  heart! 

"  He  saved  me  from  my  lost  estate, 
His  loving  kindness,  O,  how  great!" 

And  now,  like  Job,  I  am  willing  to  wait  all  the  days  of  my 
appointed  time  till  my  change  comes;  and  I  shall  go  to  be  with 
Him  and  gaze  on  Him  forever  and  forever. 

Another  time  He  manifested  Himself  in  this  wise:  I  had 
read  somewhere  in  the  Song  of  Solomon  of  my  beloved  being 
among  the  spices,  and  it  seemed  to  me  His  presence  was  so  con- 
sciously near  that  I  felt  as  though  a  person  was  walking  by  my 
side.  My  heart  was  running  over  with  love  to  Him  as  He  talked 
with  me  of  many  things,  and  at  times  I  would  look  around  to  see 
If  I  really  could  see  Him;  but  no,  I  saw  no  one.  One  morning  as 
I  sat  by  the  window  thinking  of  Him  and  His  great  love  to  me,  I 
raised  my  eyes,  and  as  I  looked  through  the  Venetian  blind  I 
seemed  to  see  His  lovely  face  peering  through  the  blinds  at  me, 
and  I  cried  out,  "O,  He  looketh  through  the  lattice  at  me;  my 
heart  is  sick  of  love!  " 

"  He  satisfieth  the  longing  soul,  and  filleth  the  hungry  soul 
with  goodness."     107th  Psalm,  ninth  verse. 

One  night  after  much  prayer  I  went  to  bed  and  soon  fell  into 
a  doze  of  sleep.  There  seemed  to  be  laid  on  m}'  breast  a  beautiful 
white  marble  cross.  It  was  cold.  As  the  cross  had  pressed  my 
forehead  I  felt  the  coldness,  and  the  weight  of  it  pressing  me. 


Amakda  Smith. 


145 


"Oh  "  I  said,  "how  beautiful;"  but.  my!  it  was  so  heavy.  In  a 
monu'ut  I  seemed  to  understand  all  it  meant,  and  all  my  wil 
se.mrd  to  be  wrapped  around  it.     I  awoke,  and  it  seemed  as  real 

as  life  itself.  ,  ,     •       _ 

As  I  meditated  and  asked  the  Lord   to  teach  me  and  give  me 
strength  to  bear  the  cross  always,  no  matter  how  heavy  it  m.gnt 
be.  I  fell  asleep  again-and  yet  it  did  not  seem  as  though  1  was 
really  asleep;  but  I   found  myself  in  a  strange   place;  it  seemed 
like  a  church,  and  yet  it  was  not.     As  I  sat  waiting,  as  for  i,eople 
to  gather,  there  were  seated  three  very  stylishly  dressed  colored 
ladies  and  several  finely  dressed  colored  gentlemen.      They  were 
sitting  in  this  large  room.     I  thought  they  looked  at  me  with  a 
scowl  of  contempt  on  their  faces  as  they  eyed  my  dress  from  head 
to  foot.     Then  they   began  to  make  remarks.     I  felt  that  tUe^ 
didn't  want  me  in  there;  but  I  bowed  to  them  and  tried  to  be 
pleasant.     They  hardly  noticed  me.     How  cut  I  felt;  and  1  said, 
-  I  wish  I  was  out  of  here."     Just  then   I  seemed  to  hear  a  noise 
outside  the  house.     There  was  a  veranda  that  looked  eastward,  so 
I  -ot  up  and  walked  out  on  the  veranda.     As  I  looked  up,  the 
moon   was  shining,  and  I  looked  just  a  little  westward  in   the 
direction  in  which  I  had  heard  the  seeming  noise  and  I  saw  com- 
ing-it was  like  a  great  beam,  though  in  shape,  a  perfect  arm,  as 
the  right  arm  of  a  man!     I  called  it  a  mighty  arm.     I  wanted 
these  persons  to  see  it,  but  I  did  not  dare  ask  them,  so  I  moved 
and  tried  to  get  their  attention  by  pulling  my  dress,  thinking  to 
attract  them.     They  laughed,  but  did  not  come.     As  the  arm  got 
over   my  head -it   was  in  the  clouds,   but  I  saw  it  distinctly. 
From  the  shoulder  to  the  elbow  was  covered  with  down,  beautiful, 
white.     On  this  down  seemed  to  lie  the  head  of  a  beautiful  bird, 
like  the  bill  of  a  swan.     It  was  buried  in  the  down,  and  though 
the  speed  of  the  arm  was  so  powerful,  this  head  lay  perfectly 
quiet  and  peaceful.     It  passed  on  .-astward  and  was  out  of  sight. 

As  I  stood  looking  and  wondering  at  the  sight  there  seemed  to 
spring  up  four  great  lions.  Oh!  how  fi.'rce  they  were!  They  came 
right  towards  me,  and  it  seemed  the  next  minute  they  would  be 
upon  me,  as  they  leaped  over  the  clouds  on  the  way  to  destroy  me. 
I  trembled  and  cried  out:  "Help,  Lord;"  and  in  an  instant  it 
seemed  two  great  clouds  came  tog.'lher  and  swallowed  them  up, 
and  I  saw  them  no  more. 

Praise    the    Lord,    that   was   a   wonderful   lesson    to   me;  for 


146  Autobiography  of  Amanda  SmitA. 

shortly  after  this  I  had  an  experience  almost  identical.  I  had 
much  to  suffer,  in  and  with  my  own  people  —  for  human  nature  is 
the  same  in  black  and  white  folks.  They  oppose  the  doctrine  of 
personal  holiness,  so  do  white  people;  but  God  has  a  remnant 
among  the  old,  and  some  of  the  young,  both  preachers  and  lay- 
men, that  believe  and  know  the  truth  of  this  doctrine  from  the 
Bible  standpoint  experimentally,  which  is  the  top  stone  of  all. 
Hath  not  God  declared  it  that  without  holiness  no  man  shall  see 
the  Lord?  My  prayer  is,  Lord,  multiply  the  witnesses  to  the 
experience  in  life  and  power  among  preachers,  bishops  and  lay- 
men. It  is  the  only  hope  for  Methodism  all  over  the  land.  May 
the  Lord  help  us,  white  and  colored!     Amen. 

But  to  turn  again  to  my  story.  As  I  turned  to  go  into  the 
room  I  heard  the  most  beautiful  singing;  it  seemed  miles  away,  but 
I  never  heard  such  singing  on  earth  so  beautiful,  so  smooth,  and  the 
heavenly  sweetness  I  never  can  describe.  As  it  neared  me  I  knew 
the  tune  well,  and  as  it  drew  still  nearer  I  heard  these  words: 

"Arm  of  the  Lord,  awake,  awake, 

Thine  own  immortal  strength  put  on, 
With  terror  clothed  Hell's  Kingdom  shake, 
And  tread  thy  foes  with  fury  down." 

And  it  passed  on  eastward,  as  the  arm  had  gone.  I  could 
hear  the  singing  away  off,  as  it  died  away  in  the  distance.  I 
awoke.  Oh,  what  peace  and  comfort  filled  my  soul!  I  believe 
God  permitted  this  to  encourage  my  faith.  How  many  ways  He 
has  to  teach  us  to  depend  on  Him,  if  we  are  only  willing  to  learn. 
How  sweet  His  own  word,  "  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and 
lowly  in  heart,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  to  your  souls."  Amen. 
Amen. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

MT  LAST  CALL -HOW   I   OBEYED  IT,  AND   WHAT   WAS  THE  RESULT. 

It  was  the  third  Sunduy  in  November,  1890.     Sister  Scott,  my 
band  sister,  and  myself  went  to  the  Fleet  street  A.  M.  E.  Church 
Brooklyn.     It  was  Communion  Sunday.     Before  I  Uft  home  I  said 
to  Sister  Scott:     "  I  wish  I  had  not  promised  to  go  to  Brooklyn. 
She  said  "Why?" 

"  Oh,  I  feel  so  dull  and  stupid." 

We  went  early,  and  went  into  the  Sabbath  School.  At  the 
close  of  the  Sabbath  School  the  children  sang  a  very  pretty  piece. 
I  do  not  remember  what  it  was,  but  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  touched 
my  heart  and  I  was  blessed.  My  bad  feelings  had  gone  for  a  few 
moments,  and  I  thought,  "I  guess  the  Lord  wanted  to  bless \ne 
here  "  But  when  we  went  upstairs  I  began  to  feel  the  same  bur- 
den and  pressure  as  I  had  before.  And  I  said,  "Oh,  Lord,  help 
me  and  teach  me  what  this  means."  And  just  at  that  point  the 
Tempter  came  with  this  supix>sition:  "Now,  if  you  are  wholly 
sanctified,  why  is  it  that  you  have  these  dull  feelings?  " 

I  began  to  examine  my  work,  my  life,  every  day,  and  I  could 
see  nothing.  Then  I  said,  "Lord,  help  me  to  understand  what 
Thou  meanest.     I  want  to  hear  Thee  speak."  ,     ,     ^ 

Brother  Gould,  then  pastor  of  the  Fleet  Street  Church,  took 
his  text.  I  was  sitting  with  my  eyes  closed  in  silent  prayrr  to 
God  and  after  he  had  been  preaching  about  ten  minutes,  as  1 
opened  my  eyes,  just  over  his  head  I  seemed  to  see  a  beautiful 
star,  and  as  I  looked  at  it,  it  seemed  to  form  into  the  shape  of  a 
large  white  tulip;  and  I  said,  "Lord,  is  that  what  you  want  me 
to  see?  If  so,  what  else?"  And  th.n  I  leaned  back  and  closed 
my  eyes.  Just  then  I  saw  a  large  letter  "G."  and  I  said:  "Lord 
do  you  want  me  to  read  in  Genesis,  or  in  Galatians?  Lord,  what 
does  this  mean?" 


148  Autobiography  of 

Just  then  I  saw  the  letter  "O."  I  said,  "Wh},  that  means  go.'* 
And  I  said  "What  else?"  And  a  voice  distinctly  said  to  me 
"Go  preach." 

The  voice  was  so  audible  that  it  frightened  me  for  a  moment, 
and  I  said,  "Oh,  Lord,  is  that  what  you  wanted  me  to  come  here 
for?  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  when.I  was  at  home,  or  when  I  was 
on  my  knees  praying?"  But  His  paths  are  known  in  the  mighty 
deep,  and  His  ways  are  past  finding  out.  On  Monday  morning, 
about  four  o'clock,  T  think,  I  was  awakened  by  the  presentation 
of  a  beautiful,  white  cross  —  white  as  the  driven  snow  —  similar 
to  that  described  in  the  last  chapter.  It  was  as  cold  as  marble. 
It  was  laid  just  on  my  forehead  and  on  my  breast.  It  seemed 
very  heavy;  to  press  me  down.  The  weight  and  the  coldness  of 
it  were  what  woke  me;  and  as  I  woke  I  said:  "Lord,  I  know 
what  that  is.     It  is  a  cross." 

I  arose  and  got  on  my  knees,  and  while  I  was  praying  these 
words  came  to  me:  "If  any  man  will  come  after  Me  let  him 
deny  himself  and  take  up  his  cross  and  follow  Me."  And  I  said, 
•*  Lord,  help  me  and  I  will." 

I  did  not  know  that  I  was  so  unwilling.  But  the  Lord  had 
showed  me  when  I  was  at  Oakington  Camp  Meeting  in  July,  1870. 
Thgre  was  a  gentleman  there  who  lived  at  Espa,  Pa.  He  made 
me  a  good  offer,  to  give  me  a  home  in  his  family,  as  servant,  as 
long  as  I  lived,  my  little  girl  and  myself.  He  said  that  his  family 
was  small;  only  himself  and  wife,  and  one  son,  a  beautiful  young 
man,  who  was  with  him  at  the  meeting,  and  who  also,  with  his 
father,  urged  me  to  go.  He  said  his  house  was  quite  new,  newly 
fitted  up  with  all  the  modern  improvements,  and  that  he  had  a 
very  nice  colored  man  and  family  on  the  place,  who  was  his  farmer, 
and  who  was  a  good  Christian  man,  and  a  local  preacher,  and  that 
they  held  in  his  own  house  a  holiness  meeting  once  every  week,  so 
that  I  would  not  be  lonesome;  and  as  he  had  been  asking  the  Lord 
about  a  person,  he  felt,  and  thought,  I  was  the  very  person  that 
would  suit  them,  and  he  wanted  me  to  break  up  housekeeping  and 
come  to  live  with  them  right  away.  I  kept  a  small  room  in  New 
York  for  myself  and  little  girl. 

He  was  a  grand,  good  man,  and  talked  so  very  nice,  and  it  did 
seem  at  first  glance  that  it  was  right  I  should  do  so,  and  I  almost 
decided  to  go.  But  before  I  did  decide,  I  spread  it  before  the 
Lord,  and  asked  the  assistance  and  direction  of  His  Holy  Spirit, 


Amanda  Smith.  149 

and  I  soon  found  out  that  it  was  not  the  will  of  the  Lord  for  me  to 
confine  myself  as  a  servant  in  any  family,  but  to  ^'o  and  work  in 
His  vineyard  as  the  Spirit  directed  me.  ThistheLord  had  made 
very  plain  to  me  once  before. 

I  worked  out  by  the  day  and  had  a  preat  deal  to  do,  till  the 
families  I  worked  for  went  away  out  of  the  country,  and  the  work 
got  slack,  and  I  had  but  one  day  out  of  the  w<'ek,  and  that  was  at 
Sister  Clark's,  on  Dominick  street.  So  when  my  work  was  slo[)i)ed, 
my  revenue  was  stopped.  I  was  reduced  down  to  thirteen  cents; 
and  I  did  not  know  what  to  do.  The  enemy  said  t(i  me,  "You 
will  keep  on  talkinfj  about  trusting  the  Lord,  and  you  will  have  to 
beg  before  you  are  done  with  it." 

"It  is  none  of  yoiir  business,"  I  said,  "  if  I  do.  I  belong  to 
the  Lord,  and  if  He  wants  me  to  beg  I'll  do  it." 

And  he  left  me  a  little  while.  But  after  a  time  he  returned, 
and  said,  "  You  had  better  go  to  service  and  come  home  at  night." 

And  I  thought,  "I  could  do  that.  My  little  girl  goes  to 
school,  and  when  she  was  out  she  could  come  to  where  I  was  and 
stay  till  night,  and  then  go  home  with  me." 

While  I  was  thinking  about  it,  my  friend.  Sister  Scott,  sent 
for  me  to  go  somewhere  to  work,  but  she  had  made  a  mistake  in 
the  number  where  I  was  to  go,  and  I  did  r.ot  find  it.  I  saw  after- 
wards it  was  all  the  Lord's  doings.  I  walked  up  and  down  for  an 
hour.  I  went  to  the  place  with  the  number  she  gave  me,  but  no 
such  person  lived  there.  On  my  way  back  I  met  a  girl  looking  ft)r 
a  chambermaid  in  the  family  where  she  lived.  She  wanted  me  to 
go  and  see  the  lady  at  once;  but  I  said,  "No,  if  I  do  go  now  the 
lady  will  want  me  to  decide  when  I  can  come." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  she,  "for  she  wants  some  one  right  away." 

"Well,  I  must  ask  the  Lord  first." 

I  went  home  and  got  down  on  my  knees,  and  I  said:  "  Oh, 
Lord,  I  am  willing  to  go  to  service  if  Thou  sayest  so.  But,  Lord, 
Thou  knowest  I  so  love  the  Sabbath  day,  and  if  I  .go  to  service  it 
will  be  taken  from  me." 

Then  these  words  were  given  me:  "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for 
you.      If  you  trust  Me  you  shall  never  be  confounded." 

"  Now,  Lord,"  I  said,  "  for  the  evidence  that  I  am  not  to  go  to 
service,  send  some  one  for  me  to  go  to  work  by  the  day." 

And  a  little  while  afterward  a  little  boy  came  and.suid  that  his 
mother  had  sent  him  to  see  if  I  could  come  ue.vt  day  and  wash; 


150  Autobiography  of 

and  I  said,  "yes,"  and  I  had  the  evidence  that  I  was  not  to  go  to 
service.  I  had  but  thirteen  cents  of  money  in  the  world.  My 
little  girl  was  at  school,  and  when  she  came  home  the  first  thing 
she  would  say  was,  "  O,  Ma,  I  am  so  hungry;  have  you  got  any 
bread?  "  So  I  had  done  without  any  dinner,  and  saved  the  piece 
of  bread  I  had,  so  that  when  my  child  would  ask  me  for  a  piece  of 
bread  I  might  have  it  to  give  her.  I  thought  I  couldn't  stand  it, 
to  have  her  ask  for  bread  and  have  none  to  give  her;  so,  though  I 
was  very  hungry,  I  did  without. 

The  grocer's  name  was  Mr.  Otten.  His  store  was  on  the  corner 
of  Mannetta  Lane  and  Sixth  avenue.  I  always  dealt  with  him.  I 
never  got  an^'thing  on  trust.  When  I  had  the  money  I  would  get 
what  I  needed,  and  pay  for  it.  When  I  didn't  have  the  money  I 
would  do  without  it.  So  I  took  the  thirteen  cents  and  went  to 
Mr.  Otten's  store,  and  said  to  him,  "Mr.  Otten,  I  will  tell  you  what 
I  want;  I  want  a  loaf  of  bread,  I  want  a  quart  of  potatoes,  I  want 
three  slices  of  salt  pork,  and  I  want  a  bundle  of  wood,  and  this  is 
every  cent  of  money  I  have  between  me  and  death."  I  showed  him 
my  money  before  I  got  the  things.     He  looked  at  me. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "  thirteen  cents  is  not  money  enough  to  pay 
for  what  you  want." 

"I  know  it,  but  that  is  what  I  want,  and  that  is  all  the  money 
I  have." 

And  then  he  looked  at  me,  and  went  and  got  the  things  and 
gave  me  back  three  cents. 

Oh!  how  I  praised  the  Lord.  I  hastened  home.  I  made  a 
nice  little  stew  for  dinner  for  Mazie  and  me.  I  was  expecting  this 
to  last  me  a  week.  I  didn't  intend  to  eat  much  myself;  I  thought 
I  could  do  without,  but  my  child  must  have  enough;  and  I  had  a 
faculty  of  piecing  out  a  little  to  make  it  go  a  good  ways. 

Well,  the  next  day  I  went  to  where  I  was  to  do  the  washing. 
It  was  not  far  from  where  I  lived.  I  knocked,  and  the  lady  opened 
the  door.  She  was  a  very  rough,  coarse  woman.  I  said,  "Good 
morning,  Madame." 

" Good  morning.     Are  you  the  woman  that's  come  to  wash? " 

"Yes,  Madame." 

"  How  much  do  you  charge  a  day?  ' 

"Well,  Madame,  I  don't  know,  I  believe  the  general  price  is 
one  dollar  and  twenty-five  cents." 

"Well, "  she  said,  "I'm  not  going  to  pay  any  such  price  as  that. " 


Amanda  Smith.  151 

"Well,"  I  Siiiil.  "M;i(l;imr,  ;i  dollar,  then,  I  Siippos.'." 
"  No,  I  won't  pay  a  dollar.     It  is  a  three  weeks'  washing',  but 
I  tan  ^'et  it  done  cheai)er  than  that." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "Madame,  seventy-five  cents,  if  it  is  a  three 
weeks'  washing  it  ought  to  be  worth  seventy-five  cents." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I'm  not  going  to  pay  that.  I  can  get  it 
done  for  fifty  cents." 

So 'she  turned  and  went  away,  and  I  said,  "Good  morning, 
Madame." 

And  just  as  I  was  crossing  out  of  Fourth  street  into  Sixth 
avenue,  how  Satan  assailed  me.  I  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 
He  said,  "  Now  you  have  been  asking  the  Lord  for  a  day's  work, 
and  the  Lord  has  given  you  this  work  and  you  have  refused  it." 

Th<Mi  I  thought,  I  will  go  back  and  tell  her  I  will  do  it  for 
fifty  cents.  And  then  something  seemed  to  whisper,  "Goon." 
So  I  went  on  a  little  further,  and  Satan  attacked  me  again,  and  he 
accused  me  of  not  being  obedient,  and  not  walking  in  th«^  way  the 
Lord  had  opened  up  for  me,  and  I  thought,  "  I  will  go  back  and 
beg  the  woman  and  tell  her  I  will  do  it." 

I  stopped  still,  and  as  I  went  to  turn  round  a  voice  said  to  me, 
"No,  no."  And  I  said,  "  Oh,  Lord,  do  help  me.  I  don't  want  to 
be  disobedient.  I  want  to  do  Thy  will  only;  "  and  I  cried  in  the 
street! 

Just  as  I  was  going  in  the  rear  of  my  own  house,  I  met  a  lady 
coming  out,  and  she  said,  "I  have  just  been  in  the  court  looking  for 
somebody  to  come  and  do  a  day's  ironing.     Can  you  come?  " 
"Yes;  where  is  it?  " 
"Right  up  here  in  McDugal  street." 

She  kept  a  boarding-house.  She  said,  "  I  want  you  to  come 
right  away.  We  are  very  busy,  and  we  are  cleaning  house,  and  I 
must  have  my  ironing  done  at  once." 

So  I  laid  down  my  things  and  went.  It  was  about  half  a  block 
from  where  I  lived.  I  worked  hard  all  day.  Oh,  what  a  day  it 
was.  It  was  in  one  of  these  boarding-houses  that  are  on  th.- 
scrimpiest  order.  There  was  a  little  fire  in  one  end  of  the  range, 
and  it  was  not  allowed  to  get  hot  enough  to  cook  anything,  scarcely 
on  top.  You  would  open  a  hole  and  set  an  iron  in  to  get  it  hot, 
.  and  perhaps  you  could  iron  a  towel;  then  some  one  of  the  boarders 
would  want  some  breakfast,  and  you  would  shut  it  up  to  try  and 
get  it  hot  enough  to  cook  something,  and  that  was  the  way  it  went. 


153  Autobiography  op 

I  saw  very  soon  aftor  I  got  in  there  why  it  was  she  could  not 
keep  any  help.  However,  I  did  the  best  I  could;  sometimes  iron- 
ing a  towel,  sometimes  washing  a  window,  and  then  ironing  a 
sheet  or  pillow  case,  then  scrubbing  a  little,  and  managing  in  all 
sorts  of  ways.  I  endured  it  for  two  days;  and  she  paid  me  my 
money  —  two  dollars. 

After  that  I  never  had  any  more  trouble  about  days'  work.  1 
had  all  the  work  I  could  do,  and  more,  at  one  dollar  and  twenty- 
five  cents  to  two  dollars  a  da}',  until  October,  1870,  when  I  left  my 
home  at  God's  command,  and  began  my  evangelistic  work.  I  did 
not  know  then  that  it  meant  all  that  it  has  been.  I  thought  it 
was  only  to  go  to  Salem,  as  the  Lord  had  showed  me.  Shortly 
after  this  I  was  off  to  Salem.  Got  as  far  as  Philadelphia,  where  I 
purposed  leaving  my  little  girl  with  her  grandfather,  while  I  went 
on  to  Salem.  But  strange  to  say,  notwithstanding  all  the  light, 
and  clear,  definite  leading  of  the  I'Ord,  my  heart  seemed  to  fail  me. 
I  said  to  myself,  "After  all,  to  go  on  to  Salem,  a  stranger,  where  I 
don't  know  a  minister,  or  anybody.  No,  I  will  do  some  work  here 
in  Philadelphia." 

So  I  got  some  tracts,  went  away  down  in  the  lower  part  of 
town,  on  St.  Mary's  street,  and  Sixth,  and  Lombard,  and  all  in 
that  region.  I  went  into  saloons  and  gave  tracts;  gave  tracts  to 
people  on  the  corners;  spoke  a  word  here  and  there;  some  laughed 
and  sneered;  some  took  a  tract.  Then  I  went  to  the  meetings, 
and  sang  and  prayed  and  exhorted.  I  went  about  among  the  sick, 
and  did  all  I  could.  And  I  said,  **After  all,  the  Lord  may  not 
want  me  to  go  to  Salem." 

After  spending  a  week  in  Philadelphia  I  thought  I  would  go 
home.  Friday  came,  and  I  thought  to  myself,  "Well,  Twill  go 
home  Saturday."-  But,  Oh  I  there  came  such  an  awful  horror  and 
darkness  over  me.  On  Friday  night,  after  I  had  come  home  from 
an  excellent  meeting,  I  could  not  sleep,  all  night.  Oh  I  how  I  was 
troubled.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  for  I  had  spent  all  my 
money;  father  did  not  have  much  means,  and  when  Mazie  and  I 
were  at  home  I  generally  provided,  not  only  for  ourselves,  but  for 
all  the  family;  so  that  my  means  went  almost  before  I  knew  it;  I 
had  not  much,  anyhow.  But  it  seemed  to  me  I  would  die.  So  I 
told  the  Lord  if  He  would  spare  me  till  morning,  though  I  had 
not  any  money,  I  would  go  and  see  my  sister,  and  if  she  could  lend 
me  a  dollar  so  as  to  get  on  to  Salem,  I  would  go. 


Amanda  Smith.  153 

Saturday  morning  came.  I  borrowed  a  dollar,  camo  home, 
and  spent  twenty-five  cents  of  it  for  breakfast;  then  with  what  it 
cost  me  lo  ride  down  to  get  on  the  boat,  in  all  about  fifteen  cents, 
I  had  left  about  sixty  cents.  My  ticket  on  the  boat  was  fifty  cents; 
I  had  had  some  little  hymns  struck  off;  we  colored  people  were 
very  fond  of  ballads  for  singing. 

A  little  while  after  I  got  on  the  boat,  who  should  come  in  but 
Brother  Holland,  who  used  to  be  my  pastor  eight  years  before,  in 
Lancaster,  Pa.  All  this  had  come  to  pass  in  the  yrars  aft.T  I  had 
known  him;  so  that  he  did  not  know  anything  at  all  about  it.  lie 
was  very  glad  to  see  me,  and  asked  me  where  I  was  going.  I  told 
him  the'  Lord  had  sent  me  to  Salem.  Then  I  began  to  tell  him  my 
story.  How  the  Lord  had  led  me.  How  He  had  called  me  to  His 
work.  Dear  old  man,  he  listened  to  me  patiently,  and  when  I  had 
got  through  he  said: 

"Well,  Sister  Smith,  you  know  I  don't  believe  in  women 
preaching.'  Hut  still,  honey,  I  have  got  nothing  to  say  about  you. 
You  so  on.     The  Lord  bless  you." 

I  was  dumbfounded;  for  I  thought  he  was  in  the  greatest 
sympathy  with  woman's  work,  though  I  had  never  heard  him 
express  himself  with  regard  to  it.  But  1  was  glad  of  the  latter 
part  of  what  he  said. 

It  was  quite  a  cool  day,  and  the  boat  got  in  about  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon.  There  were  no  street  cars  then,  as  there  are 
now.  There  was  a  big  omnibus.  They  didn't  let  colored  people 
ride  inside  an  omnibus  in  those  days.  So  I  took  my  carpet  bag 
and  had  to  sit  outside  on  the  top  of  the  omnibus. 

They  didn't  let  colored  people  off  till  all  the  white  people  were 
off,  even  if  they  had  to  go  past  where  they  wanted  to  stop;  so  I 
had  to  ride  round  on  the  omnibus  at  least  three-quarters  of  an  hour 
before  I  was  taken  to  where  I  wanted  to  go. 

The  woman's  name,  where  I  had  been  told  to  go,  was  Mrs. 
Curtis.  She  was  a  widow,  and  owned  her  own  house  and  grounds; 
she  had  quite  a  nice,  comfortable  little  house.  But  she  was  a 
queer  genius.  Old  Father  Lewis,  who  had  once  been  pastor  of 
the  A.  M.  E.  Church  at  Salem,  and  at  this  time  was  pastor  of  the 
church  at  Jers.'y  City  Heights,  N.  J.,  Vd  recommended  me  to 
Sister  Curtis,  because  she  was  alone  and  had  plenty  of  room,  and 
he  thought  it  would  be  so  nice  for  me.  It  was  more  than  a  half 
mile  from  the  locality  in  which  the  colored  church  was  situated, 


154  Autobiography  op 

and  in  which  the  majority  of  the  colored  people  lived.  But  Sister 
Curtis  seemed  as  though  she  was  frightened  at  me.  I  told  her 
who  had  sent  me  to  her  house,  and  how  the  Lord  had  called  me 
to  His  work,  and  all  my  story  of  the  Lord's  doing.  She  listened, 
but  was  very  nervous.  Then  she  said  she  didn't  know  what  in 
the  world  she  would  do,  for  she  hadn't  anything  but  some  hard 
bread  to  give  me  to  eat,  and  she  hadn't  any  sugar;  and  I  said, 
"  Well,  no  matter  for  that.  I  can  eat  hard  bread,  and  I  can  drink 
tea  without  sugar,  if  you  can  only  accommodate  me  till  Monday, 
at  least." 

Well,  she  said  she  could  keep  me  all  night,  but  she  didn't 
like  to  leave  any  one  in  the  house  on  Monday,  because  she  gen- 
erally went  away  to  wash;  and  she  generally  had  the  cold  pieces 
given  her  from  the  hotel  where  she  went  to  wash  dishes,  and  that 
was  all  she  could  give  me  to  eat. 

She  knew  how  we  colored  people  are  about  eating;  we  do  like 
to  eat;  so  I  think  she  told  me  that  thinking  she  would  frighten 
me;  but  I  agreed  to  everything.  Then  I  asked  her  if  she  could 
tell  me  where  Brother  Cooper,  who  was  then  pastor,  lived.  She 
said,  "Yes,  it  is  about  a  mile  and  a  half." 

I  asked  her  if  she  would  show  me  which  way  to  go.  She  did 
so,  but  did  not  give  me  anything  to  eat.  I  was  very  hungry,  but 
I  did  not  ask  her  for  anything.  So  I  started  off  about  three 
o'clock,  or  a  little  after,  and  went  to  see  Brother  Cooper. 

I  was  tired,  and  walked  slowly,  and  it  was  about  half-past 
four  when  I  got  up  to  the  little  village  above.  I  inquired  my  way, 
and  was  told  that  Sister  Johnson  lived  right  close  by  Brother 
Cooper's,  and  if  I  would  go  to  her  house  she  could  tell  me,  for  it 
was  just  through  her  yard  to  Brother  Cooper's  house.  So  I  went. 
I  knocked  at  the  door.  The  sister  was  in;  several  nice  looking 
little  children  were  playing  around,  and  an  elegant  pot  of  cabbage 
was  boiling  over  the  fire.  My!  how  nice  it  did  smell;  and  I  did 
wish  and  pray  that  the  Lord  would  put  it  into  her  heart  to  ask  me 
to  have  something  to  eat.  I  hinted  all  I  knew  how,  but  she  did 
not  take  the  hint.  I  knew  by  the  sound  of  it  that  it  was  done  and 
ought  to  come  off  ! 

I  told  her  my  story;  told  her  about  Brother  Lewis;  she  was 
very  glad  to  hoar  from  him.  I  asked  her  if  I  could  stay  all  night, 
because  I  felt  so  tired  that  I  thought  I  could  not  walk  back  to 
Sister  Curtis'.     She  said  at  once  she  could  not  possibly  have  me 


Amanda  Smith.  155 

st«ay  ;ill  ni^ht.  Hfr  motln-r  had  hem  dfad  about  thrcr  months, 
and  shr  had  takfii  down  thr  bedsteads,  and  she  was  so  overburdened 
•witli  her  j;rief  sh(>  had  never  put  them  up,  and  they  were  all  lying 
on  the  floor. 

I  told  her  no  matter  for  that;  I  could  sleep  on  the  floor  just  as 
well.     No,  she  did  not  have  room.     She  could  not  possibly  do  ii. 

Well,  I  stayed  till  it  was  pretty  dark,  Itwasafler  si.x  o'clock. 
The  more  I  talked  the  more  she  pave  me  to  see  that  she  was  not 
going  to  ask  me  to  have  any  cabbage,  or  to  stay  all  night. 

So  I  said  to  her,  "  Will  you  tell  me  where  Brother  Cooper,  the 
minister,  lives?  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  said,  "  I  will  send  one  of  the  chidren  with 
you." 

When  I  got  to  Brother  Cooper's  I  knocked,  and  Brother 
Cooper  came  to  the  door;  he  was  an  awful  timid  man;  so  he  stood 
at  the  door,  holding  it  half  open  and  leaning  out  a  little  ways, 
and  asked  me  who  I  was.  "I  told  him  that  I  was  Amanda  Smith;  that 
the  Lord  sent  me  to  Salem.  Then  I  went  on,  standing  at  the  door, 
telling  him  how  the  Lord  had  led  me,  and  all  about  it.  His  wife, 
who  was  a  little  more  thoughtful  than  he,  heard  me,  and  she 
called  out  to  him,  and  said,  "  Cooper,  why  don't  you  ask  the  sister 
to  come  in."    So  then  he  said,  "Come  in,  Sister." 

I  was  awful  glad,  so  I  went  in.  Sister  Cooper  was  getting 
supper.  The  table  was  set,  and  I  thought,  "Maybe,  I  will  get 
something  to  eat  now." 

So  I  went  on  and  finished  my  story,  and  they  seemea  to  be 
greatly  interested;  and  when  the  supper  was  quite  ready,  she  said, 
"Will  you  have  some  supper,  Sister  Smith?  "  I  thanked  her,  and 
told  her  I  would. 

While  I  was  eating  my  supper  who  should  come  in  but  good 
Brother  Holland,  that  had  been  on  the  boat.  He  said  to  Brother 
and  Sister  Cooper,  "  I  am  glad  you  have  Sister  Smith  here.  You 
needn't  be  afraid  of  her,  she  is  all  right;  I  have  known  her  for 
years.     I  have  not  seen  her  since  I  was  pastor  at  Lancaster." 

Then  they  brightened  up  a  little  bit,  and  seemed  to  be  a  little 
more  natural.  My  heart  was  glad.  It  was  quarterly  meeting,  and 
Brother  Holland  was  to  preach  in  the  morning  and  Brother  Cooper 
in  the  afternoon.  So  Brother  Holland  said,  as  In-  was  Presiding 
Elder,  I  might  speak  at  night  and  tell  my  story 

••All  right,"  I  said. 


156  Autobiography  of 

A/tor  a  little  talk,  Broth(>r  Holland  left.  Sist.T  Coopor  said 
she  would  be  very  glad  to  have  me  stay  all  night,  but  they  had  no 
room.  They  had  not  been  long  there,  and  had  only  fitted  up  one 
room  for  their  own  use.  They  thought  they  would  make  out  with 
that  for  the  winter.  So  then  I  was  obliged  to  walk  a  mile  and  a  half 
back  to  Sister  Curtis'.     I  did  hate  to  do  it,  but  the  Lord  helped  me. 

So  I  stayed  that  night  at  Sister  Curtis',  and  she  gave  me  a 
little  breakfast  on  Sunday  morning,  but  it  was  mighty  skimpey! 
But  I  found  out  that  a  good  deal  of  praying  fills  you  up  pretty 
well  when  you  cannot  get  anything  else!  On  Sunday  morning  we 
went  to  Love  Feast,  and  had  a  good  time.  Prior  to  this  I  had 
been  asking  the  Lord  to  give  me  a  message  to  give  when  I  went 
to  Salem.  I  said,  "Lord,  I  don't  want  to  go  to  Salem  without  a 
message.  And  now  you  are  sending  me  to  Salem,  give  me  the  mes- 
sage.    What  shall  I  say?" 

Two  or  three  times  I  had  gone  before  the  Lord  with  this 
prayer,  and  His  word  was,  "  It  shall  be  made  known  to  you  when 
you  come  to  the  place  what  3'ou  shall  say."  And  I  said,  "All 
right,  Lord."  So  I  didn't  trouble  Him  any  more  till  this  Sunday 
morning.  The  Lord  helped  Brother  Holland  preach.  When  he 
got  through  preaching  and  the  collection  was  taken.  Brother 
Cooper  made  the  announcement  that  I  was  there;  he  said,  "  There 
is  a  lady  here,  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith  "  (he  had  never  seen  me  before 
or  heard  of  me,  and  he  was  a  rather  jovial  kind  of  a  man,  and  in 
making  this  announcement  he  said,  in  a  half  sarcastic  and  half 
joking  way),  "Mrs.  Smith  is  from  New  York;  she  says  the  Lord 
sent  her;  "  with  a  kind  of  toss  of  the  head,  which  indicated  that 
he  did  not  much  believe  it.  Oh,  my  heart  fell  down,  and  I  said, 
"Oh!  Lord,  help.     Give  me  the  message." 

The  Lord  saw  that  I  had  as  much  as  I  could  stand  up  under, 
and  He  said,  "Say,  'Have  ye  received  the  Holy  Ghost  since  ye 
believed?'"  (Acts  9:2).  That  was  the  message;  the  first  message 
the  Lord  gave  me.     I  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 

A  good  sister  took  me  home  with  her  to  dinner.  The  people 
all  seemed  very  kind.  I  felt  quite  at  home  when  I  got  with  them. 
We  came  back  in  the  afternoon  and  had  a  wonderful  meeting. 

At  night  after  Brother  Holland  had  preached  a  short  sermon, 
he  called  me  up  to  exhort.  As  I  sat  in  the  pulpit  beside  him,  he 
saw  I  was  frightened.  He  leaned  over  and  said,  "  Now,  my  child, 
you  needn't  be  afraid.     Lean  on  the  Lord.     He  will  help  you." 


Amam)a  Smith.  157 

And  H.'  did  h«'lp  me.  There  was  a  large  congrepjation.  The 
gallery  was  full,  and  every  part  of  the  house  was  packed.  I  sIckkI 
up  trembling.  The  cold  chills  ran  over  me.  My  heart  seemed  to 
stand  still.  Oh,  it  was  a  night.  But  the  Lord  gave  me  great  lib- 
erty in  speaking.  Aftrr  1  had  talked  a  little  while  the  cold  chills 
stopped,  my  h«'art  began  to  beat  naturally  and  all  fear  was  gone, 
and  I  seemed  to  lose  sight  of  everybody  and  everything  but  my 
responsibility  to  God  and  my  duty  to  the  people.  The  Holy  Ghost 
fell  on  the  people  and  we  had  a  wonderful  time.  Souls  were  con- 
victed and  some  converted  that  night.  But  the  meeting  did  not 
go  on  from  that. 

Thursday  night  was  the  regular  prayer  meeting  night. 
Brother  Cooper  said  I  was  there,  and  would  preach  Thursday 
night.  He  was  going  to  give  me  a  chance  to  preach,  and  he 
wanted  all  the  people  to  come  out. 

There  was  no  snow,  but  Oh!  it  was  cold.  The  ground  was 
frozen.  The  moon  shone  brightly,  and  the  wind  blew  a  perfect 
gale.  One  good  thing,  I  did  not  have  to  go  back  to  Sister  Curtis'. 
Another  good  sister  asked  me  to  her  house  to  stay.  She  made  me 
very  comfortable,  but  said  I  would  have  to  be  alone  most  of  the 
day,  as  she  was  going  to  some  of  the  neighbors  to  help  with  the 
butchering,  as  they  do  in  the  country.  I  was  very  glad  of  that, 
for  it  gave  me  a  chance  to  pray.  So  I  fasted  and  prayed  and  read 
my  Bible  nearly  all  day.  Oh,  I  had  a  good  time.  And  then  I 
thought  I  would  visit  a  neighbor  near  by,  another  friend.  So  I 
did;  and  this  was  a  good  old  mother  in  Israel.  I  told  her  a  little 
of  my  experience,  and  then  I  told  her  the  message  the  Lord  had 
given  me  to  speak  about,  and  how  it  would  lead  to  the  subject  of 
sanctification. 

"My  child,"  she  at  once  said,  "don't  you  say  a  word  about 
sanctification  here.  Honey,  if  you  do,  they  will  persecute  you  to 
death.  My  poor  husband  used  to  preach  that  doctrine,  and  for 
years  he  knew  about  this  blessing.  But,  Oh!  honey,  they  perse- 
cuted him  to  death.     You  must  not  say  a  word  about  it." 

Well,  there  I  was  again!  So  I  went  home,  and  the  next  d^iy  I 
prayed  to  God  all  day.  I  asked  Him  to  give  me  some  other  mes- 
sage. H  this  message  was  going  to  do  so  much  damage,  I  did  not 
want  it.  But  no,  the  Lord  held  me  to  it.  Not  a  ray  of  light  on 
anything  else  but  that.  I  didn't  know  what  to  do,  but  I  made  up 
my  mind  it  was  all  I  ever  would  do,  so  1  would  obey  God  and  take 


158  Autobiography  of 

the  consoquencos.  I  thought  sure  from  what  the  dear  old  mother 
told  me  that  the  results  would  be  fatal;  I  didn't  know  but  I  would 
be  driven  out.  But  not  so.  "Obedience  is  better  than  sacrifice, 
and  to  hearken  than  the  fat  of  rams." 

Thursday  was  a  beautiful,  bright  day;  but  Oh!  cold,  bitterly 
cold.  So  I  got  down  and  prayed  and  said,  "Lord,  Thou  hast  sent 
me  to  Salem,  and  hast  given  me  the  message.  Now  for  an  evidence 
tiiat  Thou  hast  indeed  sent  me,  grant  to  cause  the  wind  to  cease 
blowing  at  this  fearful  rate.  Thou  knowest  Lord,  that  I  want 
people  to  hear  Thy  message  that  Thou  hast  given  me.  They  will 
not  mind  the  cold,  but  the  wind  is  so  terrible.  Now  cause  the 
wind  to  cease  to  blow,  and  make  the  people  come  out." 

The  wind  blew  all  day;  all  the  afternoon.  I  started  to  go 
across  the  field,  about  a  half  mile  from  where  I  was,  to  talk  and 
pray  with  a  friend.  On  my  way  back,  about  five  o'clock,  as  T  was 
crossing  a  ditch  which  ran  through  the  field,  bordered  on  either 
side  by  a  row  of  hedge  trees,  and  a  little  plank  across  it  for  a  kind 
of  a  foot  bridge,  the  wind  wrapped  me  round  and  took  me  down 
into  the  ditch.  I  could  not  hold  on,  could  not  control  myself.  I 
expected  to  be  thrown  up  against  the  trees,  and  I  cried  out  to  Him 
all  alone,  "Oh!  Lord,  Thou  that  didst  command  the  wind  to  cease 
on  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  cause  this  wind  to  cease  and  let  me  get 
home." 

Just  then  there  came  a  great  calm,  and  I  got  up  out  of  that 
ditch  and  ran  along  to  the  house.  By  the  time  we  went  to  church 
it  was  as  calm  as  a  summer  evening;  it  was  cold,  but  not  a  bit 
windy  —  a  beautiful,  moonlight  night. 

The  church  was  packed  and  crowded.  I  began  my  talk  from 
the  chapter  given,  with  great  trembling.  I  had  gone  on  but  a  little 
ways  when  I  felt  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  come  upon  me  mightily. 
Oh:  how  He  helped  me.  My  soul  was  free,  The  Lord  convicted 
sinners  and  backsliders  and  believers  for  holiness,  and  when  I 
asked  for  persons  to  come  to  the  altar,  it  was  filled  in  a  little  while 
from  the  gallery  and  all  parts  of  the  house. 

A  revival  broke  out,  and  spread  for  twenty  miles  around.  Oh! 
what  a  time  it  was.  It  went  from  the  colored  people  to  the  white 
people.  Sometimes  we  would  go  into  the  church  at  seven  o'clock  ' 
in  the  evening.  I  could  not  preach.  The  whole  lower  floor  would 
be  covered  with  seekers  —  old  men,  young  men,  old  women,  young 
women,  boys  and  girls.    Oh!  glory  to  God!     How  He  put  His  seal 


Amanda  Smith.  159 

on  ilus  first  work  to  cncourafjff  my  licart  and  t-stahlish  my  faith, 
that  He  indeed  had  chost'ii,  and  ordained  and  sent  me.  I  do  not 
know  as  I  have  ever  seen  anything  to  equal  that  first  work,  the 
first  seal  that  God  gave  to  His  work  at  Salem.  Some  of  the  young 
men  that  were  converted  are  in  the  ministry.  Somr  h.ivc  died  in 
the  trium|)h  of  faith.  Others  are  on  the  way.  I  went  on  two 
weeks,  day  and  night.  We  u.sed  to  stay  in  the  church  till  one  and 
two  o'clock  in  tin-  morning.  People  could  not  work.  Some  of  the 
young  men  would  hire  a  wagon  and  go  out  in  the  country  ten 
miles  and  bring  in  a  load,  get  them  converted,  and  then  takf  them 
back. 

One  night  I  was  so  weary  they  said  they  would  get  on  without 
me,  and  I  could  have  a  rest.  A  Mr.  HufT  had  asked  me  to  go  to 
his  house.  Two  of  his  sons  had  been  converted.  He  had  been  a 
member  of  the  church,  but  had  got  cold  and  backslidden.  His 
wife  was  pretty  much  in  the  same  condition.  They  had  three 
younger  children,  ten  and  thirteen  years  of  age.  So  I  went  to  their 
house  to  have  a  rest.  Before  we  went  to  bed  that  night  we  had 
family  prayer.  They  had  got  out  of  the  way  of  that,  Mrs  Hutf 
told  me.  She  had  got  stirred  up,  so  was  anxious  about  her  hus- 
band. I  read  the  Bible  and  explained  the  Word  the  best  I  could; 
then  I  sang;  then  I  got  down  to  pray.  There  was  a  young  man 
by  the  name  of  Williams,  Mr.  Hutf's  nephew,  about  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  with  them  at  the  house.  We  knelt  down  to  i)ray. 
I  told  Sister  Hutf  she  ought  to  pray  in  her  family.  Poor  thing, 
she  had  prayed  so  little  for  a  long  time,  it  was  rather  hard;  but 
she  did.  After  she  prayed,  I  sang  a  verse,  then  prayed.  Archir 
Hurt",  the  son,  had  been  converted  two  or  three  days  before,  won- 
derfully, I  asked  him  to  pray.  So  he  prayed,  as  a  young  convert, 
simply  and  earnestly,  though  he  was  very  hoarse;  but  the  Lord 
helped  him.  When  he  got  through  praying  I  sang  another  hymn; 
and  by  that  time  old  Mr.  Hutf  had  tumbled  over  on  the  Hoor  and 
was  i)raying  out  loud  for  the  Lord  to  savi-  him;  so  I  began  to  pray; 
and  while  I  was  praying,  the  young  nephew,  Williams,  fell  out 
and  shook  the  house.  And  there  we  were.  And  while  these  two 
brethren  were  praying,  and  Archie  and  I  were  praying,  and 
the  old  woman  was  praying,  (as  it  was  out  in  the  country  we 
didn't  whisper  at  all;  we  talked  right  out),  these  younger  children, 
a  little  girl  ten  years  old,  and  the  boys,  twins,  about  thirteen  years 
old,  gt»t  converted.     The  little  girl  was  sitting  up  at   the  op{X)Site 


160  Autobiography  of 

side  of  the  room  (her  mother  had  put  her  to  bed),  praying  for  the 
Lord  to  bless  her.  The  two  boys  had  got  up  and  come  down,  and 
they  were  praying  that  the  Lord  would  bless  them.  I  said,  "  Oh, 
Lord,  what  will  I  do?  I  have  no  help  but  Thee  onlj-.  Help, 
Lord!"  I  thought  if  I  only  had  somebody  to  sing;  but  there  was 
nobody  —  only  Archie  and  I;  and  we  had  got  so  hoarse  that  we 
could  not  do  much.     But  it  was  beautiful  just  to  see  God  do  it  all! 

The  whole  five  of  them  were  converted  that  night.  Oh,  what 
a  time.  And  so  we  were  into  it  till  about  twelve  or  one  o'clock. 
Then  I  slipped  off  and  lay  down  a  little  while. 

The  news  got  out  through  the  neighborhood,  so  they  sent  for 
me  to  come  to  another  house  next  day,  about  a  mile  and  a  half 
away.  Old  man  Huff  hitched  up  his  team,  and  he  and  his 
nephew  and  Archie  and  I  went  over  to  the  neighbor's  This  man 
was  a  very  moral  kind  of  a  man.  He  had  been  seeking  the  Lord, 
but  he  had  got  a  little  discouraged,  so  they  thought  if  I  would  go 
and  talk  to  him  it  would  help  him.  I  thought  "  I  will  have  a  quiet 
time  over  here." 

T  got  there  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  We  talked 
and  had  a  pleasant  time,  and  had  supper;  and  I  thought  we  would 
have  prayers  after  awhile.  Well,  about  eight  o'clock  one  or  two 
persons  came  in,  neighbors;  that  made  five  or  six  of  us. 

"Dear  me,"  I  thought  to  myself,  "I  have  not  strength  to 
talk  any  longer,  so  I  will  just  give  out  a  hymn,  and  we  will  sing 
and  have  prayers." 

So  I  did,  and  we  got  down  to  pray.  I  asked  somebody  to 
pray.  While  we  were  praying,  three  or  four  more  came  in. 
When  we  got  through  that  prayer  some  one  else  struck  in,  and 
two  or  three  more  came  in;  so  we  had  twelve  or  thirteen  persons, 
packed  in  like  sardines  in  a  box.  And  pretty  soon  this  man  that 
had  been  seeking,  cried  out  for  salvation.  Oh,  how  he  prayed! 
It  was  not  long  till  he  began  to  believe;  and  what  always  follows 
earnest  faith  is  victory.  When  he  shouted  victory  it  struck  terror 
to  the  others  that  were  not  converted,  and  that  night  there  were 
five  or  six  converted  in  that  house.     Oh!  what  a  victory! 

Next  day  we  visited  round  through  the  neighborhood.  How 
the  shouts  of  praise  and  hallelujah  to  God  seemed  to  be  every- 
where we  went.  So  T  went  back  to  church,  for  I  did  not  get  any 
rest  there,  and  we  went  on  two  or  three  v/eeks  longer.  From  there 
I  went  to  Millville,  N.  J.,  with  similar  results.     I  remember  one 


Amanda  Smith. 


161 


ni-IU  at  Millvillr.  aft.T  Brother  Leonard  Patterson  had  prearhrd, 
ht^said  1  was  to  take  the  services  and  fe'o  on  ind.-li.iilely. 

There  had  been  some  little  misunderstanding  between  two  or 
three  of  the  members,  so  there  was  not  a  very  good  feeling  existing 
all  around;  and  while  we  had  good  meetings,  we  would  come  right 
up  to  a  point  and  stick.  So  aft(>r  I  had  gone  on  three  or  four 
ni.rhts  I  proposed  to  have  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  which  they 
all^ruite  readilv  agreed  to.  I  said:  "  Now,  I  don't  want  anybody 
to  promise  to  fast  that  cannot;  some  people  cannot  stand  it;  but 
just  vou  who  think  you  can  fast  one  day,  and  pray  to  God  for  the 
outpouring  of  His  Spirit  —  I  want  you  to  stand  up." 

Among  those  who  stood  up  was  an  old  Broth.-r  Cooper;  they 
called  him  "  Father  Cooper."  He  had  enjoyed  the  blessing  of  sanc- 
tification  for  about  forty  years.  Oh,  what  a  grand  man  he  was! 
When  that  old  man  prayed,  something  gave  way.  There  were 
several  old  brethren  that  1  did  not  expect  would  fast  at  all.  So 
Father  Cooper  got  up  and  I  said:  "  Brother  Cooper,  you  cannot 
stand  it.     I  don't  mean  you." 

"Oh."   he  said,    "Honey,   I  don't  mean  to  let  the  children 

outrun  me." 

Another  old  man  got  up  and  said:  "  No,  indeed,  the  children 
can't  get  ahead  of  me;  I'm  going  with  them."  So  one  or  two  of 
the  sisters  and  I  visited  from  house  to  house.  We  prayed  and 
talked  and  sang.  I  was  led  to  visit  two  white  families.  Ihey 
were  poor  people.  The  Devil  tried  to  scare  me;  told  me  they  were 
Roman  Catholics,  and  would  put  me  out.  I  had  quite  a  littlr 
struc'crle,  but  finally  I  got  victory  and  went.  I  do  not  know 
whether  theywere  Roman  Catholics  or  not;  but  the  Lord  helped 
me  to  speak  to  them  and  pray.  One  woman  was  so  glad;  she  had 
a  sick  child.     I  talked  to  her  and  comforted  her. 

That  ni^'ht  when  we  came  together  the  Lord  helped  me  to 
speak  to  them,  and  He  sent  His  Spirit.  When  I  asked  them  t« 
come-  forward  to  the  altar,  those  that  were  seeking  purity,  and 
those  that  were  seeking  pardon,  I  asked  Father  Cooper  to  h-ad  u. 
prayer.     I  shall  never  forget  that  prayer.     I  seem  to  see  it  all,  and 

hear  it  yet. 

Then'  were  two  that  had  been  leading  sisters  in  the  church, 
that  did  not  speak  to  each  other,  and  were  neighbors,  were  stand- 
ing in  prws  close  to  each  other.  They  did  not  come  forward  to 
the  altar  wIlm  the  others  cam.-,  but  I  saw   thr  Spirit  of  the  Lord 


162  Autobiography  of 

had  hold  of  them;  and  while  Father  Cooper  was  praying,  the 
Holy  Ghost  fell  on  the  people,  and  these  two  sisters  were  struck 
by  the  power  of  God  like  lightning.  One  of  them  walked  out  of 
her  seat  and  went  over  to  the  seat  of  the  other  and  shook  hands 
and  wept,  and  one  of  them,  a  few  minutes  after,  whirled  over  the 
back  of  the  seat  and  down  on  the  floor,  and  she  walked  on  her 
back  clear  down  the  aisle  up  to  one  side  and  into  the  altar.  I 
think  if  anybody  had  told  her  to  do  it  she  never  could  have  done  it. 

It  was  a  marvelous  time.  I  have  never  seen  anything  like  it 
before  or  since.  There  was  one  man  that  had  been  seeking  the 
Lord  for  eight  years.  Everybody  thought  he  was  converted.  He 
lived  with  his  mother,  who  was  a  widow.  Everybody,  white  and 
colored,  liked  and  respected  him.  He  was  a  good  man,  always 
went  to  church,  and  so  the  people  said  he  was  converted;  but  he 
did  not  know  it.  So  when  they  told  me  this  a  day  or  two  before 
the  day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  I  had  this  man,  with  some  others, 
specially  on  my  mind.  After  this  great  victory,  we  worked  till 
about  eleven  or  twelve  o'clock.  I  said,  "Well,  we  will  take  up 
these  who  are  seeking.     We  will  just  have  them  rise  now." 

We  colored  people  did  not  use  to  get  up  off  our  knees  quick 
like  white  folks;  when  we  went  down  on  our  knees  to  get  some- 
thing, we  generally  got  it  before  we  got  up.  But  we  are  a  very 
imitative  people,  so  I  find  we  have  begun  to  imitate  white  people, 
even  in  that.     The  Lord  help  us. 

This  poor  young  man  got  up  and  put  his  overcoat  on,  and  he 
was  sitting  down  and  looking  so  sad,  as  though  he  was  nearly 
heart-broken.  I  had  talked  and  prayed  and  tried  to  help  him  all 
I  could;  and  there  never  was  a  soul  prayed  more  earnestly  and 
sincerely  than  he  did.  But  there  he  stuck.  I  stood  and  looked  at 
him  for  a  moment.  O,  how  they  sang.  At  last  I  went  up  to  him 
and  said:  "Look  here,  Charlie  D,,  why  don't  you  let  go  and 
.shout?" 

"Oh!"  he  wept,  "Lord  save  me! " 

"Well,"  I  said,  "The  Lord  does  save  you;  but  you  won't 
believe  Him."     And  I  said,  "  Let  go  and  shout!' 

And  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  seemed  to  fall  upon  him,  just  like 
you  would  sprinkle  hot  coals  on  any  one.  He  sprang  to  his  feet, 
and  the  light  went  all  over  him  like  fire,  and  it  seemed  as  though 
he  would  tear  himself  to  pieces  for  a  minute.  "Oh,"  he  said,  "I 
have  found  it,  I  have  found  it,  I  have  found  it! " 


Amanda  Smith  163 

This  sont  a  thrill  through  the  whole  church,  and  again  then- 
was  a  shout;  such  a  shout  you  never  heard  nor  saw.  It  was  ahout 
one  o'clock  before  we  got  out  that  ni^'ht.  I  shall  never  forget  that 
meeting  at  Millville.  Praise  the  Lord!  He  does  all  things  well. 
Amen.     Amen. 


CHAPTER     XTTT. 

MY  REMEMBRANCES   OP  CAMP  MEETING  —  SECOND  CAMP  MEET- 
ING—  SINGING  —  OBEDIENCE    IS   BETTER   THAN    SACRIFICE. 

My  first  national  Holiness  Camp  Meeting  was  at  Oakington, 
Maryland,  July,  1870.  When  I  saw  the  notice  in  the  paper  of  this 
meeting,  I  thought  I  would  like  to  go.  But  then  I  was  a  poor 
washwoman,  and  how  could  I  go?  I  went  to  do  a  few  da^s' 
work  for  Mrs.  Margaret  Clark,  when  she  lived  on  Dominick  street, 
and  was  one  of  the  flaming  members  of  the  Duane  Methodist 
Church,  and  was  a  camp  meeting  woman  of  the  old  fashioned 
stamp.  She  said  to  me  one  day,  "  Sister  Smith,  you  ought  to  go 
to  the  camp  meeting  at  Oakington." 

I  said,  "  I  should  like  to  go  if  I  could  get  something  to  do,  tak- 
ing care  of  the  lodging  tent,  or  get  a  chance  as  waitress  in  the 
boarding  tent,  so  as  to  earn  a  little  something."  My  rent  was  six 
dollars  a  month,  and  if  I  lost  two  weeks,  then  what  would  I  do?  So 
I  said,  "You  write  and  get  me  a  situation." 

"  Well,  yes,"  she  said,  "but  you  won't  get  much  good  of  the 
meeting  that  way." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  can't  go  any  other  way."  So  she  said, 
"All  right." 

I  went  home  and  prayed  that  the  Lord  would  open  the  way 
for  me,  and  hoped. 

Next  week  when  I  went,  I  expected  to  hear  favorably  from 
Mrs.  Clark's  letter.  She  said  she  had  not  heard  from  her  letter 
yet,  but  said,  "Sister  Smith,  why  don't  you  trust  the  Lord  and  go 
to  get  the  benefit  of  the  meeting?  "  I  was  struck  with  the  thought, 
just  what  I  would  like  to  have  done.  Then  I  thought,  "What, 
trust  the  Lord  about  my  rent?"  I  had  not  heard  of  such  a  thing, 
certainly  I  had  never  done  it.  I  thought  a  moment  and  then  said, 
"I  will." 

(164) 


Amanda  Smith.  105 

Tht'ii  Mrs.  Clark  said.  "  You  can  take  your  own  bt*(l-tick 
and  have  it  lillfd.  and  you  can  have  room  in  our  tent  to  sleep,  and 
you  will  only  have  t)ur  tent  to  look  after."  How  my  heart  leaped 
for  joy.  Tiii-n  slu'  told  me  how  to  manage,  and  I  worked  away, 
gatherctl  what  I  could  together  and  so  got  enough  to  pay  my 
round  trip  ticket  and  had  just  ten  cents  over.  When  the  time 
canif  Mrs.  Clark  said,  "Send  your  trunk  down  to  our  house  ami 
it  can  go  with  our  things  in  the  morning." 

I  did  so,  but  when  the  man  got  there  a  little  after  six  o'clock 
in  the  morning  they  were  all  gone.  When  I  got  to  the  Cortlandt 
Street  Ferry,  I  found  my  trunk  was  not  tlu-re,  the  man  had  taken 
it  to  Debrosses  Street  Ferry,  so  the  old  man  told  me  I  had  better 
go  up  to  Debrosses  street,  about  two  miles  away.  My  heart  beat, 
I  didn't  know  what  to  do.  I  thought,  "I  can't  walk,  it  is  so  far, 
and  I  am  so  weary."  I  thought  I  might  catch  the  train,  and  so 
took  the  street  cars.  Then  I  thought,  "  If  I  pay  the  ten  cents  to 
go  up  and  down,  how  am  I  going  to  get  through  the  ferry?  " 

I  got  back,  but  of  course  missed  the  train.  I  had  to  wait  from 
about  eight  o'clock  till  half  past  ten.  It  seemed  that  everything 
was  against  me.  O,  how  earnestly  I  did  pray.  I  found  that  I 
was  twenty-five  cents  short  when  I  went  to  buy  my  ticket,  that  is 
if  I  got  an  excursion  ticket,  so  I  didn't  know  what  to  do.  I  asked 
the  Lord  to  let  me  see  some  one  I  knew,  so  as  to  ask  them  to  lend 
it  to  me.  There  were  a  great  many  persons  waiting  to  go  by  the 
same  train,  among  them  was  Rev.  Henry  Belden,  whom  I  had 
often  met  at  the  Palmer  meetings;  Rev.  Mr.  Wells,  pastor  of  the 
Seventeenth  Street  Methodist  Church;  Mr.  Faulkner,  and  a  num- 
ber of  other  members  of  the  church.  They  were  all  very  kind  to 
me.  I  thought,  "Shall  I  ask  Brother  Belden  for  the  twenty-five 
cents?  ' 

Just  as  I  looked  around,  who  should  be  there  but  Brother 
Clark. 

*'0,"  I  said,  "I  thought  you  had  gone." 

"I  will  not  go,"  he  said,  "  till  Saturday." — this  was  Wednes- 
day morning,  I  think, —  "Mrs.  Clark  left  something  and  1  hurried 
back  to  get  it,  and  when  I  got  here  the  train  had  just  gone,  so  you 
will  take  it." 

"Mr.  Clark,  will  you  please  loan  me  twenty-five  cents?" 

"I  have  no  change,"  he  said,  "but  a  two  dollar  bill,  I  will 
give  you  that  and  you  can  give  it  to  m«'  when  I  come." 


166  AuTonioGUAriiv  op 

So  I  ^,'ot  my  ticket  all  right.  Now  the  gates  open,  and  the 
push  and  noise  —  it  was  all  so  new  to  me  then.  I  got  in  at  last  and 
took  my  seat,  and  I  sat  thinking  and  wondering  how  I  would  pay 
good  Brother  Clark  his  two  dollars  when  he  came  on  Saturday. 
*'  Lord,  help  me,"  I  said,  "and  open  the  way  for  me." 

Then  Satan  said  to  me,  "  If  you  had  not  bought  that  package 
of  tracts  you  wouldn't  have  had  to  borrow  that  two  dollars." 

A  day  or  two  before,  I  had  bought  at  the  Bible  House,  a  pack- 
age of  holiness  tracts —  they  cost  thirty  cents.  I  knew  my  money 
was  short,  but  holiness  was  so  sweet  to  me  that  I  wanted  every- 
body to  get  it,  and  these  tracts  set  the  truth  forth  in  such  a  clear, 
reasonable  light  I  thought  I  might  do  a  little  work  for  the  Lord  in 
giving  them  to  persons,  so  that  was  why  I  got  them.  The  Devil 
don't  like  holiness  anyhow,  and  I  was  ignorant  of  his  devices,  and 
was  among  strangers.  He  tried  his  best  to  pick  a  quarrel  with 
me.  After  a  little  while  I  got  my  pack  and  took  out  the  tracts 
and  began  to  read,  and  in  spite  of  all,  I  felt  happy,  and  felt  I  had 
done  right  in  getting  them.  The  train  went  on.  In  a  little  while 
some  one  began  to  sing.  I  was  asked  to  join  in  the  song,  and  a 
real  pleasant  going  to  camp  meeting  we  had.  After  the  singing 
was  over,  Mr.  Faulkner  came  back  to  the  seat  where  I  was  sitting 
and  said:  "What  are  you  reading,  Auntie?"  I  handed  him  the 
package  of  tracts. 

"  Ah,  do  you  know  anything  about  holiness?"  he  said. 

My  heart  caught  fire  in  a  moment,  and  I  began  to  tell  what 
great  things  the  Lord  had  done  for  me,  and  after  listening  a  while, 
he  said,  "  I  want  to  give  our  pastor.  Brother  Wells,  some  of  these 
tracts,"  and  I  think  he  said  his  daughter  and  some  other  ladies 
were  interested  in  the  subject. 

"  All  right,  sir,"  I  said,  "  I  am  very  glad  to  have  you  take  as 
many  as  you  like."  When  he  got  through  he  returned  what  were 
not  used. 

"  They  are  very  good,  and  you  must  pray  that  God  will  bless 
them." 

Then  he  handed  me  a  two  dollar  bill.  "  I  don't  sell  them,  sir," 
I  said. 

He  smiled  and  replied,  "But  don't  you  buy  them?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  didn't  pay  that  for  them,  sir." 

"  No  matter,"  he  said,  "  I  guess  you  can  use  it,  can't  you?" 

"O,  yes,  sir,  thank  you,  praise  the  Lord."   Then  he  went  away. 


Amanda  Smith.  167 

I  sjiw  how  (iod  h;i<i  .inswrrrd  my  pr.iyrr,  ;m<l  |»;ii<l  the  two 
dollars  I  had  borrowed  of  dear  Brother  CMark.  "It  shall  come  to 
pass  that  before  they  call,  I  will  answer;  and  while  they  are  yet 
speaking'  I  will  hear."  Isaiah,  05:21.  So  when  Brother  Clark 
came  on  Saturday,  I  was  glad  to  hand  him  the  two  dollars. 

That  camp  meeting  I  shall  never  forget,.  IIow  God  gave  me 
friends  and  blessed  me.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  been  to  a 
meeting  of  that  kind.  I  had  never  heard  such  testimonials  and 
such  i>reachingon  holiness.  The  Sunday  morning  Love  Feast  will 
never  be  forgotten.  The  Lord  laid  it  on  me  to  give  my  experience 
of  how  I  found  the  great  salvation,  and  as  I  spoke  He  blest  me 
greatly  and  the  people  as  well.  At  the  close,  Brother  Inskip  said 
they  wanted  five  hundred  dollars  —  I  think  it  was  that  amount  — 
for  the  expenses  of  the  big  tent.  Some  person  proposed  to  divide 
the  amount  in  shares,  so  there  was  a  hearty  and  prompt  response, 
for  everybody  seemed  to  be  so  happy,  and  in  about  ten.  or  fifteen 
minutes  they  had  the  amount,  and  over.  I  wanted  to  give  some- 
thing, I  was  so  glad  and  happy  I  thought  I  would  like  to  give  ten 
dollars  if  I  had  it,  so  I  said,  "Thou  knowest,  Lord,  if  I  had  it  I 
would  give  it,  do  put  it  into  somebody's  heart  to  give  it  for  me." 

I  had  hardly  uttered  the  prayer  when  dear  old  Brother  John 
McGlynn  stood  up  and  said,  "Ten  dollars  for  that  colored  sister 
that  just  now  sf)oke." 

"Praise  the  Lord!  thank  you,  sir,"  I  shouted.  O,  I  felt  I 
could  fly. 

It  was  there  I  began  to  learn  the  d(>ep  meaning  of  the  text, 
"  Ask  and  ye  shall  receive,  seek  and  ye  shall  find,  knock  and  it 
shall  be  opened  unto  you." 

In  the  afternoon  I  went  into  the  tent  where  Brother  Purdy  was 
leading  a  meeting;  he  was  probing  and  testing  those  who  were 
seeking  full  salvation,  for  all  who  know  Brother  Purdy  and  his 
methods  know  that  no  one  slips  through  his  fingers  easy,  who  is 
seeking  for  pardon  or  purity.  He  probes  deep,  praise  the  Lord.  I 
listened.  I  knew  my  own  heart  measured  up  to  each  of  these  tests 
and  I  could  say,  "  Praise  the  Lord!  "  My  soul  was  all  aglow  with 
holy  triumph.  I  stepped  up  and  said,  "  Brother  Brady,  would  you 
like  to  try  your  probe  on  me?" 

He  was  all  taken  back,  but  in  his  pleasant  way  said,  "Yes, 
e^n  you  stand  it,  Amanda?" 

*' Yes,  sir; "  and  I  took  up  the  ditferent  tests  he  had  given 


168  Autobiography  op 

and  went  through  with  thorn.  The  power  of  the  Lord  came 
down  upon  us,  and  6,  what  a  meeting;  sinners  were  converted, 
believers  sanctified.  The  meeting  lasted  long  after  the  preaching 
began  in  the  evening.     People  came  from  all  parts  of  the  ground. 

There  I  first  met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Martyr,  of  Philadelphia,  who 
afterwards  were  very  good  friends  to  me.  They  are  both  now  in 
Heaven. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  I  saw  Rev,  B.  F.  Adams.  He 
preached  a  wonderful  sermon  on  Sunday  morning,  and  gave  his 
experience  how  he  got  the  blessing  of  sanctification.  The  power 
of  the  Spirit  was  manifest.  Brother  Adams  sat  down  in  a  tempest 
of  glory.  It  was  the  very  Sunday  that  Rome  was  declaring  the 
infallibility  of  the  Pope.  Brother  Boole  sprang  to  his  feet,  as  by 
inspiration  and  said,  as  he  only  could  say  it: 

"In  Rome  to-day  they  are  crowning  the  Pope  infallible;  let's 
rise  and  sing,  'All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name,  and  crown  Him 
Lord  of  all,'  in  our  hearts  forever." 

And  the  whole  congregation  rose  in  an  instant  as  one,  and  I 
think  I  never  heard  such  singing — never  heard  that  old  Corona- 
tion sung  as  it  was  that  day.  Yes,  we  crowned  Him  King  of 
Kings  and  Lord  of  Lords.  Hallelujah!  for  the  Lord  God  Omnipo- 
tent reigneth! 

As  I  had  learned  at  Oakington  to  trust  the  Lord  for  temporal 
things,  and  He  had  blest  me  so  wonderfully,  I  began  to  pray  about 
going  to  Sing  Sing,  and  the  Lord  sent  help.  A  few  days  before 
the  meeting  opened,  Brother  Munson,  of  Twenty-fourth  Street 
Methodist  Church,  where  my  friend.  Sister  Scott,  and  myself  used 
to  go  at  times  to  his  class,  was  down  town  one  morning,  and  the 
Lord  sent  him  into  135  Amity  street,  where  I  lived,  in  New  York. 

*•  Well,  Sister  Smith,"  he  said,  "  are  you  ready  for  the  camp 
meeting?" 

" I  am  asking  the  Lord  to  open  the  way  for  me." 

"Well,  here  are  two  dollars  to  help  you  along." 

I  did  praise  the  Lord  for  another  indication  of  His  loving 
kindness.  Calling  a  brother's  name  who  was  a  member  of  his 
class,  he  said  his  family  would  give  me  a  place  to  sleep  in  their 
tent,  if  I  liked,  or  I  could  have  a  corner  in  the  large  meeting  tent. 
"Praise  the  Lord,"  I  said,  "He  doeth  all  things  well.  Now,  tell 
me  how  to  go,  and  all  about  it." 

He  did  so,  and  left.     I  had  a  good  time  after  he  had  gone. 


Amanda  Smith.  169 

thanking  (Jcxl  for  His  woiulerlul  lovi^  to  nn«.  It  was  all  a  Tirw 
rxiK  rii-ncf,  but  so  bfautitui  because  I  saw  the  Lord's  iiaiul  in  all. 
rhc  (lay  i-ainr,  ami  my  little  daughter  Ma/ie  and  I  were  olF  to  the 
eamp.meeiing.  The  Lord  j^ave  me  many  friends,  and  taught  me 
new  lessons.  I  remember  many  dear  ones  of  those  days,  though  so 
many  have  gone  to  be  with  God.  Rev.  John  Cookman,  who  was 
then  pastor  of  Bedford  Street  Church,  and  llev.  Brotln-r  II<  ail 
si  nun,  that  wonderful  man  of  God,  Brother  Moorchousf,  and  a 
number  of  others,  were  there,  llow  well  I  remember  dear  John 
Gookman;  he  was  then  a  power.  1  have  no  objection  to  his  going 
to  Heaven  when  his  work  was  done,  but  somehow  I  felt  as  though 
he  might  have  gone  as  safely  through  the  dear  old  Methodist 
Church,  that  his  father  and  brother  Alfred,  of  blessed  memory, 
loved  and  served  so  long;  but  praise  the  Lord,  anyhow  there  are 
no  sects  in  Heaven.  Hallelujah!  Oh,  the  City  will  be  full  of 
blood-washed  souls  out  of  every  kindred,  tongue  and  people.  "What 
a  gathering  of  the  people  that  will  be." 

Then  there  was  Brother  Tom  Sherwood,  and  Brother  Kno.x, 
and  King.  What  times  we  used  to  have  in  the  police  tent  meet- 
ings! Brother  John  McClain's  tent  was  where  the  young  people 
held  their  meetings.  There  I  first  saw  and  heard  Laura  Bowden 
(afterwards  Mrs.  Crane);  she  was  then  in  her  prime  of  power. 
How  the  Lord  did  use  her  testimony  and  exhortation  to  the  saving 
of  many,  young  and  old.  I  had  never  seen  or  heard  of  a  young 
people's  and  children's  meeting  till  then.  All  this  was  so  new  to 
me,  and  yet  was  grand. 

One  day  Mrs.  Dr.  Butler  was  to  speak  on  the  Zenana  work  in 
India,  where  she  and  her  husband  spent  so  many  years.  Miss  Bowd»'n 
was  to  have  charge  of  the  Young  People's  Meeting.  Mrs.  Butler's 
meeting  was  in  a  tent  in  another  part  of  the  grounds  and  for  ladies 
only.  I  wanted  to  hear  Miss  Bowden  so  much,  for  she  was  so  clear 
on  the  subject  of  holiness,  and  this  was  my  heart's  delight,  then  I 
wanted  to  hear  Mrs.  Butler  on  India.  I  had  never  heard  a  mis- 
sionary address  in  my  life.  At  that  time  we  had  no  Woman's 
Foreign  Mission  Work  in  our  church;  but  it  is  ditferent  to-day, 
thank  God. 

I  thought  it  all  over,  and  decided  to  go  into  Mrs.  Butler's 
meeting;  she  was  to  leave,  and  Miss  Bowden  would  be  there  longer, 
so  I  would  have  another  chance  to  hear  her,  I  went  into  Mni. 
Butler's  meeting;  it  was  in  a  large  tent,  and  full  of  nice  and  many 


170  Autobiography  of 

richly  dressed  ladies.  I  slipped  in  at  the  door  and  sat  down  behind 
them.  Mrs.  Butler  had  a  small  table  in  front  of  her;  and  on  it  a 
number  of  different  heathen  gods,  such  as  were  worshiped  in  India, 
and  I  had  never  seen  anything  of  the  kind  before,  but  I  thought  it 
can't  be  that  human  beings  worship  such  hideous  things  for  gods. 
My  heart  melted,  and  I  wept  bitterly  and  thought,  "O,  if  I  could 
only  go  and  sing  that  very  familiar  old  hymn,  '  I  am  so  glad  that 
Jesus  loves  me.'  "  It  was  new  then  and  I  had  sung  it  a  great  deal, 
and  God  had  blest  it  to  so  niany  souls.  I  thought,  "  If  I  could  go 
and  sing  this  hymn  they  would  all  be  converted  right  off,"  but  O, 
how  little  I  knew  about  heathen  superstitions  and  customs. 

Well,  I  had  only  two  dollars  and  a  half  in  the  world,  that  was 
to  get  my  little  girl  a  pair  of  shoes.  She  had  walked  about  in  the 
grass  and  got  her  shoes  run  inside.  She  was  caring  for  Mrs.  Vico's 
little  child,  and  I  didn't  like  her  to  have  on  those  uncomfortable 
walking  shoes,  so  the  next  morning  I  was  to  send  to  the  village 
after  them.  I  sat  listening  to  Mrs.  Butler.  She  made  an  appeal 
to  the  ladies  for  the  Zenana  work,  and  told  how  small  a  sum  would 
keep  a  Bible  woman  in  the  field  a  year.  "O,"  I  thought,  "if  I 
had  it  I  would  give  twenty  dollars." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  only  a  few  responded  to  this  appeal 
out  of  the  great  number  in  the  tent,  I  thought  it  very  strange. 
By  and  by  two  ladies  elegantly  dressed  got  up  and  went  out.  They 
had  on  fine  Leghorn  hats,  trimmed  with  deep  black  lace,  elegant 
black  lace  shawls.  "O,"  I  said  to  mj'self,  "those  ladies  ought  to 
give  twenty  dollars,  they  must  be  rich."  Then,  as  Mrs.  B.  talked 
on,  others  got  up  and  left,  giving  nothing.  How  sad  I  felt.  Just 
then  the  Spirit  said  distinctly  to  me,  "You  give  that  two  dollars," 
and  I  said,  "I  will." 

"  Yes,"  the  Devil  said,  "you  will  look  nice  to  go  up  there  with 
just  two  dollars;  if  you  had  five  it  would  be  something  like." 

Then  I  felt  ashamed  to  give  two  dollars,  and  thought  if  I 
could  only  get  out. 

Then  he  suggested,  "  If  you  had  gone  to  that  Young  People's 
Meeting  you  would  not  have  felt  so  bad." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "I  wish  I  had  gone." 

"Give  the  two  dollars,"  the  Spirit  said  again. 

"Your  child  needs  the  shoes  and  j^ou  have  no  more,"  the 
D*^vil  said.     "  Your  first  duty  is  to  your  child." 

How  concerned  he  was  for  her  theni 


Amanda  Smith.  171 

I  thou^'ht  I  would  ^'u  out,  and  as  I  started  thr  Spirit  said, 
"God  knows  why  yo»i  arr  going  out;  it  is  because  you  don't  want 
to  give  that  two  dollars." 

O,  I  felt  I  could  scrt'am  out,  so  I  went  up  to  Mrs.  BuMer,  sob- 
bing like  a  child,  and  said,  '*  Mrs.  Butler."  She  looked  at  me  and 
I  said,  "Can  I  go  to  India?" 

"I  wish  you  could,"  she  said  so  kindly. 

"Well,"  said  I,  ''will  you  take  two  dollars?" 

"  Yes,  I  will,"  she  said,  "  I  will  give  you  a  paper,  too." 

It  was  the  "Heathen  Woman's  Friend."  I  had  never  seen  it 
before,  so  I  went  and  sat  down,  and  O,  such  a  wave  of  glory  swept 
over  my  soul,  and  I  said,  '*  Lord,  I  thank  Thee,  for  I  believe  I  have 
done  right." 

Just  then  the  Di'vij  said,  "  He  that  provideth  not  for  his  own 
household  is  worse  than  an  infidel."  It  was  like  a  shot,  for  it  was 
in  the  Bible,  and  I  had  read  it,  and  I  didn't  know  what  to  do.  I 
closed  my  eyes  and  lifted  my  heart  to  God  and  said,  "  Lord,  I 
don't  understand  it,  but  somehow  I  feel  I  have  done  right."  Then 
the  Lord  sent  another  shower  of  blessing  to  my  soul.  O,  it  went 
all  through  me  like  oil  and  honey  I  How  good  the  Lord  was  to  me, 
and  at  just  that  moment.     Hallelujah!    What  a  Saviour! 

At  half-past  two  the  bell  rang  at  the  stand  for  preaching.  I 
walked  down  rather  slowly,  and  when  I  got  there  som«'  one  was 
making  a  plea  for  twenty  dollars  or  more  for  putting  the  water 
tanks  on  top  of  the  hill,  so  as  to  be  more  convenient  for  the  people. 
A  gentle  whisper  came  to  me,  "Give  that  fifty  cents." 

"You  will  be  a  fool  to  give  that,"  the  Devil  suggested,  "  for 
some  one  might  give  3'ou  two  dollars;  then  you  would  have  the 
fifty  cents  so3'Ou  could  get  the  shoes." 

"Yes,"  I  said  to  myself,  "I  guess  I  have  got  in  sympathy 
with  things,  looking  at  them  and  hearing  them."  So  I  shut  my 
eyes  and  turned  round  so  as  not  to  look  up  as  the  basket  passed. 
But  the  man  came  and  passed  the  basket  right  under  my  face, 
and  I  rose  up  and  threw  the  fifty  cents  in  the  basket  and  said, 
"Glory  to  God  for  nothing,  and  hallelujah  for  everything,  for  I 
have  got  Jesus  yet;  "  and  O,  such  a  wave  of  salvation  swept 
through  my  soul,  and  I  said,  "  Lord,  I  thank  Thee  for  helping  me 
to  do  right." 

By  and  by  the  preacher  commenced.  I  listened.  Rev.  John 
Cookman  preached  one  of  bis  strong  holiness  sermons.     I  was 


172  Autobiography  of 

greatly  blest;  but  every  now  and  then  the  Devil  would  assail  me 
and  I  would  say,  "Lord,  help  me;  I  believe  I  have  done  ri^ht." 
And  He  blest  me  still  further.  It  was  a  fight;  but  thanks  be  to 
God  who  giveth  us  the  victory. 

After  the  meeting  was  over  I  went  to  my  tent  to  get  our  tea 
ready.  It  was  now  about  six  o'clock,  and  just  as  we  were  sitting 
down  and  had  begun  our  meal  a  voice  called  from  the  outside: 

"Mrs.  Smith,  Mrs.  Smith,  Grandpa  says  you  and  Mazie  must 
come  and  get  your  supper." 

It  was  good  old  Father  Brummel's  little  grandson. 

"  Billy,  tell  your  grandpa  I  thank  him,  but  we  are  having  our 
supper  and  will  come  some  other  time." 

I  thought  he  had  gone,  but  in  a  few  minutes  more  he  called 
out  again: 

"Mrs.  Smith,  Grandpa  says  you  and  Mazie  must  come  over 
and  get  your  supper." 

So  Mazie  said,  "Well,  Ma,  we  had  better  go." 

We  had  some*  peaches  cut  down.  I  said,  "  What  shall  we  do 
with  our  peaches? " 

"O,"  she  said,  "let's  leave  them  for  morning." 

"  All  right,"  I  said.  So  when  we  got  in  dear  Brother  Brum- 
mell's  tent  he  said,  "Come,  Sister  Smith,  sit  here,"  pointing  to 
the  seat.  I  shall  never  forget  his  loving,  kind  face.  We  passed 
in  and  took  our  seats  at  the  table.  When  I  turned  up  my  plate 
there  were  three  one  dollar  bills  under  it,  fifty  cents  more  than  I 
had  given.  So  old  Satan  got  whipped  that  time!  Praise  the 
Lord!  That  was  why  he  assailed  me  so  during  the  preaching  ser- 
vice; but  how  sweetly  Jesus  delivered  me  out  of  his  hand.  Praise 
His  name  forever! 

And  this  is  only  one  of  the  many  times  He  has  delivered  me. 
O,  Lord,  I  will  praise  Thee. 

After  1  had  given  the  two  dollars  to  Mrs.  Butler,  I  sent  to 
town  next  morning  and  got  the  shoes  for  my  little  girl  just  as  I  had 
purposed.  At  one  o'clock  Sister  Jane  Fee  said  to  me,  "  Let  us  go 
to  some  place  where  we  can  have  a  little  quiet  and  prayer  together. " 

We  took  our  Bibles  and  went  far  from  the  ground,  in  an  old 
apple  orchard.  We  found  a  large  tree  out  of  sight  of  the  people, 
and  almost  out  of  hearing.  There  we  sat  down  and  read  the 
Word.  Oh,  how  sweet  it  was.  We  wept  together,  and  prayed, 
and  praised  the  Lord,  and  made  our  request  known,  and  He  heard 


Amanda  Smith.  173 

us.  \i\rv  spciuliuj,'  :m  liour,  wr  nturiKil  to  tho  campground. 
As  I  had  had  only  a  slight  hri'akfast,  and  it  was  now  two  o'clock, 
I  was  fft'ling  qiiitf  hungry! 

As  we  wort'  going  down  one  of  the  avenues  two  gentlemen 
were  standing  talking.  When  we  got  up  to  them  one  of  them 
reached  out  his  hand  and  said  to  me,  "This  is  Sister  Amanda 
Smith,  I  believe." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "that  is  my  name,  sir." 

"  I  have  often  heard  of  you.  Well,  Sister  Smith,  how  arc  you 
getting  on?" 

"Oh,  very  well;  the  Lord  looks  after  me." 

"Well,  have  you  had  your  dinner?"  he  asked. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "not  yet." 

"  Here  are  two  dollars.  Go  over  there,  (pointing  to  a  tent); 
that  is  Brother  C.'s  tent.  I  have  just  had  my  dinner,  and  they 
have  a  good  table." 

I  thanked  him  kindly,  and  praised  the  Lord. 

"But,"  I  said,  "I  will  not  eat  all  this  two  dollars  up;  there 
will  be  some  change.     Where  can  I  find  you?" 

"Oh,  never  mind  that,"  he  said,  "you  can  keep  it;  make  it 
go  as  far  as  it  will." 

Thus  the  Lord  was  my  shepherd  that  day. 

At  six  o'clock  there  was  a  prayer  meeting  held  at  what  was 
called  the  old  Second  Street,  or  Policemen's  tent.  Brother  King, 
Brother  Smith  and  a  number  of  others  took  part.  God  was  in 
the  midst  of  us.  The  Lord  helped  in  singing,  praying  and  exhor- 
tation. How  blessed  it  is  to  remember  our  old  friends.  Brother 
Tom  Sherwood,  with  his  grand  "  Amen,"  and  "Bless  the  Lord," 
and  "  Glory  to  God,"  as  he  would  so  often  make  the  woods  ring 
when  he  would  shout  it. 

The  next  morning,  at  the  close  of  the  early  prayer  meeting,  I 
stood  talking  with  some  one,  when  a  gentleman  came  to  me  and 
said,  "  Have  you  had  your  breakfast?  " 

"  No,"  I  said'  "  not  yet." 

"Well,  I  am  going  home;  I  have  some  tickets,  and  I  guess 
the  Lord  will  have  me  give  them  to  you.  They  will  last  till  the 
camp  meeting  closes." 

"I  thank  God,  and  thank  you,"  I  said;  'but  as  I  am  a 
colored  woman  they  may  object  to  my  taking  my  meals  at  that 
tent." 


174  Autobiography  of 

"  I  don't  think  they  will,"  he  said;  "  I  do  not  think  thero  will 
be  any  objection,  but  I  will  go  and  see." 

So  he  did;  and  it  was  all  right.  They  treated  me  and  my 
daughter  most  kindly;  and  the  secret  of  it  was,  they  were  earnest 
Christians. 

These  are  some  of  the  Lord's  doings,  and  they  are  marvelous. 
Hallelujah!     And  I  did  sing  with  spirit,  and  with  understanding. 

"  In  some  way  or  other  the  Lord  will  provide; 
It  may  not  be  my  way,  it  may  not  be  thy  way, 
But  yet  in  His  own  way,  the  Lord  will  provide." 

And  I  began  to  trust  Him  for  temporal  as  well  as  spiritual 
blessings  as  I  had  never  done  before.  And  Oh,  how  faithful  was 
my  Lord.  How  He  has  blessed  me,  and  all  the  little  I  have  done 
for  Him. 

I  had  not  been  accustome)3  to  take  part  in  the  meetings, 
especially  when  white  people  were  present,  and  there  was  a 
timidity  and  shyness  that  much  embarrassed  me;  but  whenever 
called  upon,  I  would  ask  the  Lord  to  help  me,  and  take  the 
timidity  out  of  me;  and  He  did  help  me  every  time. 

I  remember  one  Sunday,  between  the  hours  of  the  morning 
and  evening  service,  there  was  a  great  concourse  of  people.  At 
that  time  I  had  a  good  voice,  and  could  siag  very  loud.  Mrs.  L. 
asked  me  to  go  to  her  tent,  and  on  my  way  many  crowded  round 
me  and  asked  me  to  sing.  Near  by  was  a  large  stump.  Brother 
Smith,  a  class-leader  at  old  Second  Street  Church,  New  York, 
called  out,  "  Sister  Smith,  step  up  on  that  stump  so  the  people 
may  hear  you  better.  B}^  that  time  there  was  a  crowd  around  me 
of  about  four  hundred  people.  After  I  had  sung  one  or  two 
pieces,  one  of  which  was  very  familiar  and  blessed  to  many — 

"  All  I  want,  all  I  want. 
Is  a  little  more  faith  in  Jesus." 

Brother  Smith  said,    "Sister  Smith,  suppose  you  tell  the  people 
your  experience;  how  the  Lord  converted  you." 

And  I  asked  the  Lord  to  help  me  if  it  was  His  will  that  I 
should  honor  Him  in  acknowledging  what  He  had  done  for  me. 
And  I  felt  He  would  help  me,  so  I  trusted  in  Him  and  ventured  to 
speak,  As  I  went  on  my  heart  grew  warm,  and  the  power  of  the 
Spirit  rested  upou  me,  and  many  of  the  people  wept,  an4  seemed 


Amanda  Smith.  175 

deeply  moved  and  interested,  as  they  had  never  bct-ii  before.  And 
(iod,  I  believe,  blessed  ihat  inectinjif  at  that  bi^'  stumi)  on  the  old 
Sing  Sing  Cami)  CJround.  How  real  it  all  seems  to  me  now  as  I 
think  it  over,  though  it  was  so  long  ago.  A  day  or  two  more  and 
the  camp  meeting  was  over,  and  I  and  Mazie  were  on  the  boat 
going  home  to  New  York,  to  my  dear  home,  which  was  two  small 
riK)ms  in  the  rear  of  135  Amity  street,  now  called  Third  street, 
just  above  Si.xth  avenue.  I  call  it  my  dear  home  because  the  Lord 
had  so  many  times  answered  my  prayer,  and  blessed  my  own  soul, 
and  made  it  the  birthplace  of  many  souls.  Those  two  little  attic 
ro«^ms  will  ever  be  dear  to  me,  and  I  feel  like  saying,  as  one  of  old: 
'If  I  forget  thee,  let  my  right  hiind  forget  her  cunning;  if  I  do 
not  {irefer  thee  above  all  the  fine  mountains  in  America,  England, 
Scotland,  Rome,  Egypt,  or  Africa." 

"Here  I'll  raise  my  Ebenezer, 
Hither  by  Thy  help  I've  come, 
And  I  hope  by  Thy  good  pleasure 
Safely  to  arrive  at  home."    Amen. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

KENNEBUNK  CAMP  MEETING  —  HOW  I  GOT  THERE,  AND  WAS  EN- 
TERTAINED—  A  GAZING  STOCK  —  HAMILTON  CAMP  MEETING  — 
A  TRIP  TO   VERMONT  —  THE   LOST   TRUNK,    AND   HOW    IT    WAS 

foun;d. 

I  had  met  Brother  Luce  at  Round  Lake  Camp  Meeting.  He 
was  a  strong  holiness  preacher.  Among  others  who  had  asked  me 
to  go  to  different  camp  meetings,  he  had  asked  me.  I  was  a  young 
beginner  yet,  and  knew  the  Lord  was  leading.  But  I  generally 
prayed  over  matters  a  good  deal  before  deciding.  There  was  a 
Mrs.  Brown,  who  used  to  live  at  Harlem,  N.  Y.  She  was  a  good 
woman,  and  I  used  to  work  for  her.  I  liked  her  very  much.  They 
had  a  tent  at  Round  Lake,  also.  So  one  day  she  asked  me  to  bring 
her  a  pitcher  of  water. 

I  often  did  little  things  for  the  ladies,  brushed  and  settled  up 
their  tents,  or  got  them  a  pitcher  or  bucket  of  water.  I  never  felt 
that  it  hurt  my  dignity. 

After  I  had  brought  her  a  pitcher  of  water,  Mrs.Brown  said 
to  me,  **We  have  a  camp  meeting  at  Wesley  Grove  at  such  a  time, 
and  we  are  short  of  workers,  and  I  believe,  Amanda,  the  Lord 
would  bless  you  if  you  would  go  to  our  camp  meeting;  and  all  the 
money  you  needed  would  be  at  your  disposal." 

"Thank  j'ou,"  I  said,  "there  are  several  who  have  asked  me 
about  going  to  different  camp  meetings.  But  you  know  I  have  to 
pray  about  it.  So  if  you  give  me  the  address  I  will  know  how  to 
go  when  I  get  home  and  get  still  before  the  Lord,  so  as  to  know 
just  where  He  wants  me  to  go,  for  when  om  says  'Come  here,'  and 
another  'There,'  I  cannot  tell  which  way  or  place  the  Lord  wants 
me  to  go.    But  when  I  get  home  and  get  still  I  can  know  His  voice. " 

So  off  I  went  at  that.  The  day  before  the  camp  meeting 
closed  I  met  Brother  Luce  again. 

(176) 


Amanda  Smith.  177 

•*Nov/,  Sister  Smith,"  said  he.  "  I  have  a  church  at  St.  Johns- 
ville,  and  our  people  have  a  hirge  society  tent,  and  you  could  slay 
in  it,  and  I  would  like  to  have  you  come  to  our  camp  meeting.  I 
will  give^you  my  address,  and  when  I  get  home  I  will  write  you 
and  give  you  all  the  directions  how  to  come,  so  you  will  have  no 
trouble." 

"All  right,  sir;  thank  you,"  I  said. 

The  me«*ting  closed,  and  I  never  had  heard  such  wonderful 
preaching  on  the  line  of  holiness.  I  was  filled  and  thrilled.  So 
1  went  homt'  and  began  to  pray  and  ask  the  Lord  where  He  would 
have  me  go.  For  out  of  all  the  places  I  had  been  asked  to  visit,  I 
wanted  to  know  just  where  He  would  have  me  go.  And  a  deep 
conviction  settled  down  upon  me  that  I  was  to  go  to  Kennebunk. 
I  liked  Brother  Luce  and  Brother  Munger,  and  their  families  were 
all  so  kind  to  me  while  at  Round  Lake.  Then  Brother  Luce  would 
send  me  word  just  how  to  come.  But  to  my  surprise,  when  the 
letter  came  Brother  Luce  said,  "Sister  Smith,  I  am  not  well,  and 
our  people  have  decided  not  to  take  our  big  tent;  so  you  had  better 
not  come,  as  you  are  a  stranger,  and  have  no  place  to  stop." 

"Well,"  I  thought,  "all  right.  I  will  go  to  Wesley  Grove, 
where  Mrs.  Brown  wants  me  to  go.  Then  I  know  her,  and  like  to 
work  for  her.      So  it  will  be  better  than  going  to  Kennebunk." 

Then  the  conviction  to  go  to  Kennebunk  seemed  to  deepen, 
and  I  did  not  understand  it.  I  must  go  to  Kennebunk.  I  went 
to  the  Lord  and  told  Him.  I  said,  "Lord,  I  would  be  willing  to 
go  to  Kennebunk,  but  Thou  knowest  Brother  Luce  has  written 
and  told  me  not  to  come.  And  Thou  knowest  it  is  not  nice  to  go 
where  you  are  told  not  to  come.  And  if  I  do,  it  will  look  like 
impertinence  after  he  has  written  and  told  me  not  to  come.  So  I 
will  go  to  Wesley  Grove.  Mrs.  Brown  says  they  need  help  there. 
Then  I  have  worked  for  Mrs.  Brown,  and  I  am  better  acquaint»*d 
with  her,  and  that  would  be  better  for  me." 

Thistime  Satan  helped  me  a  little  bit.  He  said,  "Yes,  the 
reason  you  want  to  go  to  Wesley  Grove  is  because  Mrs.  Brown 
offered  you  money,  and  that  is  all  you  are  going  there  for  —  money." 

Oh!  how  horrible  it  seemed  as  I  thought  of  it.  And  I  knew  il 
was  not  so.  And  I  said,  "  Now,  Mr.  Satan,  that's  a  lie,  and  I  will 
not  go  to  Wesley  Grove  at  all.  I  am  going  straight  to  Kenne- 
bunk, where  they  told  me  not  to  come.  And  I  will  show  you  it*8 
not  monev  I'm  after." 


178  Autobiography  ov 

I  didn't  know  how  much  it  would  take  for  me  to  go  to  Kenne- 
bunk.  I  had  been  only  to  Philadelphia.  So  on  Friday  night  I 
went  to  old  John  Street  Church.  Brother  Roberts  was  class  leader 
there.  When  they  held  their  fiftieth  anniversary  they  ^lad  made 
me,  with  a  number  of  others,  a  life  member,  so  I  often  used  to  go 
to  this  class. 

That  night  there  was  a  Mr.  Palmer  there.  He  was  a  very 
nice  man,  and  a  very  consistent  Christian.  When  the  meeting 
was  over,  this  gentleman  went  to  put  me  on  the  Sixth  avenue 
cars.  He  said,  as  we  walked  along,  talking,  "Sister  Smith,  for 
years  I  have  been  seeking  the  blessing  of  heart  purity,  and  your 
testimony  to-night  helped  me.  But  why  is  it  I  do  not  seem  to  get 
out  into  the  full  light?  The  Lord  has  blessed  me,"  he  added, 
"and  I  have  some  means.  I  am  a  broker  on  Wall  street.  But  I 
have  consecrated  all  to  the  Lord.  And  any  time  you  need  any 
help,  you  must  just  let  me  know." 

"Well,  sir,"  I  said,  "I  never  tell  anybody  but  the  Lord  about 
my  needs.  He  knows  all,  and  I  always  tell  Him  to  put  it  into  the 
hearts  of  the  people  to  help  me  when  I  need  it,  and  then  I  leave  it." 

Now,  somehow,  I  felt  that  the  Lord  wanted  that  brother  to 
give  me  some  money,  for  I  did  not  have  quite  enough  to  go  to  Ken- 
nebunk.  So  I  said  good  night,  and  got  on  the  car  and  on  I  went. 
But  I  prayed  all  the  way,  and  after  I  got  home,  that  the  Lord 
would  trouble  that  man's  heart,  for  I  felt  that  he  was  disobeying 
the  Spirit,  and  that  was  one  reason  why  he  could  not  come  out 
into  the  light  of  full  salvation.  You  must  not  keep  back  the  full 
price  of  loyal  obedience  to  God,  and  yet  expect  Him  to  bless  you. 
And  yet  how  often  do  we  find  persons  doing  this  very  thing.  Then 
they  wonder  why  they  do  not  get  on.  The  Lord  help  someone 
who  reads  this  to  see  the  truth. 

I  felt  somehow  all  the  time  that  that  man  was  the  one  that 
was  to  help  me  out.  So  next  morning  I  got  down  and  praj'ed 
again.  And  then  I  got  up  and  began  to  get  my  things  ready.  I 
was  doing  some  ironing.  All  at  once  I  heard  someone  come  run- 
ning upstairs  very  quickl3^  When  he  got  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
he  called  out,  "Sister  Smith!  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said.     Who  should  it  be  but  this  very  brother. 

"T  had  an  errand  uptown  this  morning,"  said  he,  "and  I 
thought  I  would  run  in  and  see  }'ou." 

Now  he  had  never  been  to  my  house  before  in  his  life.     So  I 


Amanda  Smith.  1?^ 

said,  "The  Lord  sent   him."     I  siiid  to  him,  "Sit  <l()wn,   Brother 
Palmer."     "Well,"  hr  .saia,  "  1  haven't  much  time." 

Hill  he  (lid  sit  (h)wn  a  lew  minutes,  and  then  he  .said,  "  1 
wanted  ti)  ^'ive  y()U  a  littU'  money." 

"  Amen,"  said  I.     "  You  mi^^ht  as  well  have  done  it  last  nij^'ht. 
That's  what  the  Lord  told  you  to  do." 
"  Well,  ves,"  he  said. 

It  was  just  enoufjh,  with  what  I  had,  to  ^et  mo  a  round  trip 
ticket  to  Kennebunk  Camp  Meeting.     Praise  the  Lord! 

Then  we  got  down  on  our  knees  and  prayed.  I  said,  "  Now, 
brother,  vou  might  just  as  well  settle  this  thing.  The  Lord  is 
willing  to  bless  you.  Why  don't  you  let  him?  Why  not  be  obedi- 
ent now?    The  Lord  can  do  it  now  if  you  will  just  trust  Him." 

So  while  kneeling  it  came  to  me  to  sing  a  verse  or  two  of  that 
old  hymn  of  Charles  Wesley's: 

"  Come,  O,  Thou  traveler  unknown, 
Whom  still  I  hold  but  cannot  see. 
My  company  before  is  gone, 

And  I  am  left  alone  with  Thee,"  etc. 

After  singing  I  said  to  him,  "  Now,  Brother  Palmer,  pray  and 

let  go." 

So  he  did.  My!  how  he  prayed!  The  Lord  broke  him  all 
down.  He  got  blessed  while  he  was  praying.  I  prayed  a  little 
and  then  I  sang  the  next  verse: 

"  In  vain  Thou  strugglest  to  get  free, 
I  never  will  unloose  my  hold: 
Thou  art  the  man  that  died  for  me, 

The  secret  of  Thy  love  unfold. 
Thy  mercies  never  shall  remove. 
Thy  nature  and  Thy  name  is  Love." 

Then  the  blessed  Spirit  fell  upon  him,  and  he  launched  out 
into  light  and  liberty.  Oh!  how  he  praised  the  Lord.  What  a 
morning  that  was  in  that  little  attic  room  on  Amity  street.  "And 
still  there's  more  to  follow." 

In  a  few  days  after  this  I  was  otT  to  Kennebunk.  I  left  New 
York  by  the  Fall  River  Line  at  five  o'clock  p.  m.  When  I  got  on 
the  boat,  to  my  surprise  whom  should  I  meet  but  Sister  Clark. 

"  Whv,"  she  said,  "Sister  Smith,  where  are  you  going?" 


180  Autobiography  op 

"I  am  going  to  Kennebunk  Camp  Meeting.  Where  are  you 
going?  "  "  Well,  praise  the  Lord,"  she  said,  "  there  is  where  I  am 
going." 

We  had  a  very  pleasant  evening  together  on  the  boat.  We 
talked  and  prayed  and  sang.  There  were  a  number  of  very  nice 
ladies,  who  seemed  to  enjoy  Sister  Clark's  talk  and  prayers.  We 
should  have  got  into  Boston,  at  the  old  Providence  depot,  at  eight 
A.  M.,  so  as  to  take  the  train  there  for  Kennebunk.  But  on 
account  of  a  fog  the  boat  did  not  get  in  on  time,  so  we  were  ten 
minutes  late  for  the  train.  Then  we  had  to  wait  till  twelve  o'clock, 
noon,  before  there  was  another  train.  Well.  I  was  going  to  get  my 
ticket  and  go  on  the  boat  from  Boston.  It  was  cheaper  that  way. 
But  Sister  Clark  said: 

"Now  don't  do  that,  Sister  Smith.  You  will  lose  two  days  of 
the  camp  meeting  if  you  do  that.     Go  right  on  now  with  me." 

Well,  I  thought  I  would  like  to  do  it,  yet  I  didn't  have  money 
enough.  But  she  said,  "I  think  you  had  better  do  it.  I  think 
j^ou  had  better  go  right  on  with  me." 

So  after  talking  awhile  I  decided  to  buy  my  ticket  and  go 
with  her.  That  left  me  only  fifty  cents.  After  I  got  my  ticket  and 
sat  down,  oh!  how  Satan  attacked  me.  He  said,  "  Now  you  have 
been  getting  on,  and  the  Lord  has  been  leading  you  all  the  way. 
But  now  you  have  got  out  of  the  Lord's  hands.  You  have  got  into 
Mrs.  Clark's  hands.     She  is  leading  you  now." 

Oh!  I  felt  dreadful.  I  wished  I  had  not  seen  Mrs.  Clark.  I 
wished  I  had  not  come  on  the  boat.  Oh!  to  think  the  Lord  had 
blessed  me  so  much,  and  now  I  had  got  right  out  of  His  hands,  and 
was  in  the  hands  of  a  woman.  I  do  not  suppose  Sister  Clark  ever 
knew  how  bad  I  felt.     I  could  have  cried. 

After  I  walked  about  a  little  while,  I  said  to  Mrs.  Clark,  "  I 
have  Miss  Sarah  Clapp's  address." 

She  lived  on  Winter  street,  Boston.  I  had  met  her  at  the 
camp  meeting  at  Round  Lake,  and  she  had  given  me  this  address, 
and  told  me  if  I  ever  came  to  Boston  I  must  call  and  see  her.  So 
I  said,  "  I  think  I  will  go  and  see  Miss  Clapp." 

"  Very  well,"  she  said,  "  I  will  stay  here  and  mind  the  things. 
Be  sure  you  get  back  in  time." 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

So  I  went  out  and  took  the  car  and  went  to  MissClapp's. 
How  glad  she  was  to  see  me.     She  had  got  the  blessing  at  the 


Amanda  Smith.  181 

Round  Lake  Camp  Mi'«4ing,  and  she  was  praising  the  Lord,  and 
saying  how  nicely  the  Lord  had  kept  her,  and  how  she  had  been 
getting  on  since  she  had  got  back  to  Boston.  She  got  me  some 
lunch.  We  sang  and  had  a  little  prayer  together,  then  she  brought 
something  to  me  and  said,  "I  want  you  to  take  this.  The  Lord 
wants  me  to  give  it  to  you.  But  you  must  not  look  at  it  until  you 
get  in  the  cars." 

Well,  I  was  in  a  fidget,  becuuse  I  wanted  to  see  what  it  was. 
So  she  sent  a  little  girl  with  me  to  put  me  on  the  right  car  that 
would  take  me  right  to  the  depot.  Oh!  how  I  did  want  to  look  at 
what  she  had  given  me.  But  she  had  made  me  promise  not  to 
look  at  it,  so  I  did  not.  When  I  did  look  at  it,  lo  and  behold,  it 
was  a  five  dollar  bill!    So  another  triumph  for  Jc'sus. 

We  arrived  at  Kennebunk  at  nine  o'clock  p.  m.  Sister  Clark 
had  friends  that  were  looking  for  her,  so  they  met  her  at  the  depot. 
Of  course  when  we  got  to  the  grounds  the  meeting  was  over,  and 
all  the  people  were  in  their  tents.  I  had  the  company  of  Sister 
Clark  and  her  friend  as  far  as  the  stand,  or  auditorium.  Then 
Sister  Clark  said,  "Sister  Smith,  what  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

The  lady  was  with  her  said,  "  I  wish  I  had  room  for  you,  Mrs. 
Smith,  I  would  take  you  in.  But  really  I  have  only  room  for  Sister 
Clark." 

"  If  I  could  find  the  lodging  tent,"  I  said,  "  I  might  inquire 
whether  I  could  get  a  place  for  the  night." 

But  she  said  she  did  not  know  really  where  to  direct  me.  So 
the  man  set  my  trunk  down,  and  I  sat  down  on  the  end  of  a  long 
bench  beside  it.     There  was  one  or  two  lights  burning. 

"Now  then,"  the  Devil  said,  "if  you  had  gone  on  the  boat  as 
you  first  thought,  and  had  not  followed  Sister  Clark,  you  would 
have  got  here  in  the  day  time,  and  it  would  have  been  much  bet- 
ter. Then,  besides,  you  might  have  done  some  good  work  for  God 
on  the  boat.  It  is  all  well  enough  for  Mrs.  Clark.  She  had  friends 
looking  out  for  her.  But  no  one  here  knows  }ou."  "That  isso," 
1  said,  "and  I  am  so  sorry  I  did  not  go  on  th»'  boat." 

One  might  have  thought  he  was  wonderfully  interested  for  the 
poor  sinners  on  the  boat.  What  a  pity  I  had  not  gone  and  talked 
to  those  people  as  he  said.  Ohl  how  subtle  his  suggestions.  How 
he  likes  to  tantalize  yon  about  what  you  might  have  done,  especi- 
ally after  the  opporiuiiity  is   past.     He  does  it  to  get  your  eye 


lS3  Autobiography  op 

turned  on  a  mistake,  or  on  the  sadness  of  \'our  heart,  because  you 
have  made  a  mistake,  and  how  many  poor  souls  he  brings  into 
bondage  right  at  this  point.  I  sat  there,  and  in  my  heart  I  cried. 
But  somehow  I  felt  I  was  right  in  coming.  So  I  said,  "Lord, 
help  me  to  learn  the  lesson.  I  suppose  I  will  have  to  sleep  under 
the  stand." 

So  in  my  mind  I  began  to  fix  about  which  way  I  should  lay 
my  head.  There  was  a  great  pile  of  leaves  and  some  straw  under 
the  stand,  to  be  kept  dry  in  case  it  should  rain.  So  my  imagined 
bed  was  made.  Then  I  thought,  "I  wonder  if  there  are  any  pigs 
about  here,  and  if  they  would  disturb  me." 

Then  I  began  to  feel  a  little  afraid,  and  I  said,  "  Lord,  help  me, 
and  do,  please  send  some  one  to  me." 

I  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words  when  I  saw  a  door  open  away 
at  the  upper  part  of  the  grounds;  a  man  came  out  and  walked 
to  where  I  was  sitting.  A  moment  later,  and  out  came  a  sister. 
She  said,  "Brother  M.,  where  are  you  going?" 

"  Oh!  "  he  said,  "  I  think  I  see  someone  here!  so  I  am  looking 
about." 

By  that  time  he  was  quite  up  to  me.  "  Why,  is  this  Amanda 
Smith?'* 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

"Sister  A.,"  he  called,  "here  is  Sister  Amanda  Smith.  Praise 
the  Lord.  Oh!  now  I  see  why  the  Lord  sent  me  out  here.  I  had 
no  especial  business,  but  it  seemed  I  must  come  down  here  and 
look  about.     Praise  the  Lord." 

We  had  a  praising  time  of  it.  They  took  me,  bag  and  bag- 
gage, to  the  tent.  It  was  a  large  society  tent,  and  there  were  several 
families  together.  They  had  a  large  upstairs,  and  they  said  they 
could  accommodate  me  for  the  night  anyhow.  I  was  so  thankful. 
I  had  an  elegant  bed,  and  was  so  comfortable.  In  the  morning 
when  they  had  all  gone  downstairs  I  got  on  my  knees  and  said, 
"Now,  Lord,  this  seems  like  the  very  place  where  Thou  wantest 
me  to  stay.  But  they  have  said  they  could  accommodate  me 
only  to-night.  Now  if  Thou  dost  want  me  to  stay  here,  make 
them  ask  me  Avhen  I  go  downstairs,  to  stay.     Amen." 

In  the  morning  I  arose  and  went  downstairs.  We  had  family 
prayers.  What  a  time  we  had.  It  was  not  strange  to  have  a  bap- 
tism of  the  Spii  it  fall  upon  us  in  those  days  while  at  family  prayers 
and  praising  the  Lord. 


Amanda  Smith.  18.1 

Whon  the  hroiikfast  was  over  I  said,  "Now  can  you  It'll  me 
where  the  otlicc  is  where  I  can  fxo  to  inquire  about  getting  a  tent, 
and  some  straw  to  till  my  tick  and  pillow?" 

"  Oh!  you  are  not  going  away,  are  you?" 

"  Well,  you  know  you  were  only  to  accommodate  me  till  morn- 
ing, as  I  was  out  of  doors  last  night." 

"Well,  were  you  comfortable  where  you  slept  last  night?" 

"Oh!  yes." 

"Very  well.     You  just  stay  where  you  are." 

Oh!  didn't  I  praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  for  his 
wonderful  works  to  the  children  of  men.  No  wond«'r  Job  said, 
"  And  these  are  only  parts  of  His  ways."     Hallelujah! 

Here  I  must  speak  of  Sister  Clark's  help  when  I  was  greatly 
tempted  because  the  people  gazed  at  me  and  followed  me  about 
from  place  to  place  and  just  stared  at  m(\ 

Under  this  trial  I  learned  the  meaning  of  the  thirty-second 
and  thirty-third  verses  of  the  tenth  chapter  of  Hebrews. 

It  was  one  Sunday.  There  had  been  a  great  crowd  ,^11  day, 
and  everywhere  I  would  go  a  crowd  would  follow  me.  If  I  went 
into  a  tent  they  would  surround  it  and  stay  till  I  came  out,  then 
they  would  follow  me.  Sometimes  I  would  slip  into  a  tent  away 
from  them.  Then  I  would  see  them  peep  in,  and  if  they  saw  me 
they  would  saj',  "Oh!  here  is  the  colored  woman.  Look!"  Then 
the  rush!  So  after  dinner  I  managed  to  get  away.  I  went  into  a 
friend's  tent  and  said,  "Let  me  lie  down  here  out  of  sight  a  little 
while." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "  the  people  do  not  si'em  to  have  any  man- 
ners.    I  never  saw  anythiHg  like  it." 

So  I  got  down  on  the  floor  under  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  I 
could  see  them  as  they  would  pass  by,  and  hear  them  say,  "Where 
is  she,  the  colored  woman?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  think  she  is  in  here,"  someone  would 
say.  But  I  kept  still.  About  five  o'clock  the  people  began  to 
leave  the  ground.  So  about  six  I  stepped  out  and  went  down  to 
the  spring.  I  met  Sister  Clark.  She  said,  "Sister  Smith,  have 
you  had  your  supper?" 

"No,"  I  said,  "there  is  something  the  matter  with  me." 

"What  is  it?" 

"The  people  have  followed  me  about  all  day,  and  have  stared 
at  me.     Somehow  1  feel  so  bad  and  uncomfortable." 


134  Autobiography  op 

"  Well,"  shp  SHid,  iMughing,  "don't  you  know  the  I^ible  says, 
•  You  are  to  be  a  gazing  stock?  '  " 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  is  it  in  the  Bible?  '* 

"Yes." 

"All  right,  I  can  settle  it  then." 

She  went  to  the  dining  hall  to  supper,  and  I  went  down  in  the 
woods  by  myself,  and  there  I  had  it  out.  I  told  the  Lord  how 
mean  I  felt  because  the  people  had  looked  at  me.  I  prayed, 
"  Help  me  to  throw  off  that  mean  feeling,  and  give  me  grace  to  be 
a  gazing  stock."  And  after  I  had  prayed,  I  remained  kneeling 
and  thinking  it  all  over.  All  at  once  a  thought  came  to  me: 
"The  other  day  when  you  were  carrying  the  clothes  home  you 
saw  a  crowd  standing  and  looking  in  at  a  window  on  Broadway, 
New  York,  at  a  picture." 

"Yes." 

"  And  you  went  up  with  the  crowd  and  looked  at  it  too.** 

"Yes." 

"You  heard  the  remarks  of  the  people,  and  the  approvals  and 
disapprovals." 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

"  Did  that  picture  say  anything?" 

"No." 

"  Did  ii  injure  its  beauty?  " 

"  No,  Lord;  I  see  it." 

I  got  up  and  went  on  double  quick  to  the  tent.  I  praised  the 
Lord.  I  laughed,  and  cried,  and  shouted.  It  was  so  simple,  and 
yet  so  real.  The  next  morning  at  the  eight  o'clock  meeting  I  got 
up  and  shouted,  "I  have  got  the  victory!  Everybody  come  and 
look  at  me!     Praise  the  Lord!" 

I  was  free  as  a  bird. 

"  What  a  wonderful  Saviour  is  Jesus,  my  Jesus, 
What  a  wonderful  Saviour  is  Jesus,  my  Lord!" 

At  this  same  camp  meeting  the  Lord  cured  a  good  old  brother, 
Jacob  C,  of  prejudice.  He  was  a  well-to-do  man,  and  had  lived 
in  Maine  all  his  life.  He  said  he  had  never  seen  many  colored 
persons,  and  never  cared  to  have  anything  to  do  with  them  when 
he  could  help  it.  If  he  had  any  business  to  do  with  them,  he 
would  always  do  it  as  quickly  as  possible  and  get  away.  So  now, 
when  he  saw  me  about  in  the  meetings  he  was  much  disturbed. 


Amanda  Smith. 


185 


Hut  still  hr  fflt  tliat  b."  n.'.a.d  ihr  bhssin-,  and  had  como  to 
camp  mrt'ling  for  lluit  puri.ost'.  Whrn.'vrr  thr  invitation  was 
^ivi'n  for  those  who  wanti'd  a  cli-an  heart,  he  would  jro  forward 
and  kneel  down.  But  then  the  black  woman  would  be  in  every 
meetin-;  would  sing,  or  pray,  or  testify.  He  could  not  get  on. 
Then  the  Holv  Si.irit  had  showed  him  the  filthy  use  of  tobacco, 
and  he  thought  he  never  could  give  that  up.  He  had  us.'d  it 
from  a  boy  ten  years  old;  and  he  was  now  about  sixty.  He  said  h.> 
had  never  been  without  it  a  day  all  these  years;  and  if  he  failed 
to  get  it  on  Saturday,  he  would  go  into  a  drug  store  on  his  way  to 
church  on  Sunday  morning  and  get  it,  and  pay  for  it  on  Monday. 
What  a  slave!  He  was  a  class-leader,  and  he  said  he  felt  he 
needed  to  be  fixed  up  a  bit. 

So  he  did,  I  should  say.  One  morning  under  a  powerful  ser- 
mon bv  Rev.  13.  F.  Pomeroy,  of  the  Troy  Conference,  h.'  was  led 
to  make  a  full  surrender  of  himself.  When  Brother  Pomeroy 
inviied  them  forward,  this  man  went.  He  had  got  the  victory 
while  praying  in  the  woods,  over  his  prejudice  against  me  an  hour 
or  two  before.  But  the  tobacco  stuck.  He  had  it  in  his  mouth, 
and  when  he  knelt  there  the  Spirit  said  to  him,  "Can  you  give  up 
that  tobacco?"  And  I  saw  him  when  he  dug  a  hole  in  the  straw 
and  leaves  and  took  his  tobacco  out  of  his  mouth,  put  it  down, 
covered  it  over  and  got  on  it  with  his  knees!  It  was  not  long 
before  the  Lord  poured  in  his  heart  the  blessing  of  full  salvation. 
Myl  how  he  shouted! 

It  was  a  wonderful  meeting  that  afternoon.  The  first  thing 
he  saw  when  he  got  up  and  stood  on  his  feet,  he  said,  was  the 
colored  woman  standing  on  a  bench  with  both  hands  up,  singing 
"All  I  want  is  a  little  more  faith  in  Jesus."  And  he  said  <'very 
bit  of  prejudice  was  gone,  and  the  love  of  God  was  in  his  heart, 
and  he  thought  I  was  just  beautiful! 

I  saw  him  the  next  year,  and  he  was  still  saved.  And  he  sat 
down  by  m.-  in  the  dining  hall  at  th.'  table  and  gave  me  two  dol- 
lars; and  he  said  the  past  year  had  been  the  best  year  of  his  life. 
Oh,  how  happy  he  was!     God  bless  him.     Amen. 

I  think  it  was  June  21,  1871.  1  remember  the  great  railroad 
accident  at  Revier.  I  got  into  Boston  from  Martha's  Vineyard.  I 
was  anxious  to  catch  the  five  p.  m.  train.  It  left  Boston,  and 
stopped  at  Hamilton,  about  seven  o'clock.  Then  the  next  train  did 
MOt  leave  till  seven  thirty,  and  that  would  not  arrive  at  the  camp 


186  Autobiography  of 

meeting  till  about  nine  o'clock;  and  as  I  had  never  been  there  I 
was  anxious  to  get  there  as  early  as  1  could.  But  the  man  that  I 
had  got  to  take  my  trunk  was  late,  and  just  as  I  had  got  into  the 
station  the  train  was  moving  out. 

"Oh,  my!"  I  said,  "I  wanted  to  go  on  that  train."  The 
porter  said,  "You  are  too  late  now." 

"When  will  the  next  one  go  out  to  the  camp  meeting? " 
"Seven  thirty,"  he  said,  "and  will  arrive  about  nine  o'clock." 
"Oh,"  I  said,  "I'm  so  sorry.  1  wrote  I  would  be  on  that  train." 
There  were  a  number  of  persons  who  had  come  to  say  good-bye 
to  loved  ones,  parents,  and  children,  and  friends;  and  as  the  train 
moved  off,  handkerchiefs  were  waved  and  kisses  were  thrown, 
and  the  last  good-bye  said,  and  the  train  passed  out  of  the  station, 
and  I  felt  as  though  I  would  cry,  I  was  so  disappointed.  But  that 
disappointment  saved  my  life.  We  left  Boston  on  the  next  train, 
a  lively  company  of  camp  meeting  folks.  A  number  were  just 
going  for  the  Sabbath.  I  met  a  number  of  friends  who  knew  me, 
and  we  had  some  singing  on  the  train,  and  I  was  feeling  glad  and 
happy,  after  all  my  disappointment.  We  went  at  full  speed,  and 
all  at  once  the  train  suddenly  stopped.  We  sang  on  and  waited 
for  it  to  start.  We  didn't  know  what  the  trouble  was.  A  half 
hour  passed;  still  we  did  not  move  on.  Some  of  the  men  went  out, 
and  we  thought  when  they  came  back  we  would  know  what  the 
trouble  was.  Another  half  hour  passed,  and  they  did  not  come 
back.  Then  some  of  the  women  said,  "Let's  go  out  and  see." 
So  several  of  us  got  out  and  walked  down  the  track  and  met  sev- 
eral coming,  who  said  there  was  a  great  accident  at  Revier.  Our 
train  had  stopped  about  a  mile  away,  this  side  of  where  the  acci- 
dent occurred. 

I,  with  several  others,  walked  to  the  scene,  and  as  we  drew  near 
the  fire  was  roaring,  and  the  shouts  for  help  and  the  groans  of 
the  dying  and  wounded  were  something  beyond  description. 
Revier  was  only  a  small  way  station;  there  was  no  drug  store,  and 
no  houses  to  get  any  help  from.  They  took  off  the  doors  of  the 
few  houses  that  stood  round,  and  the  shutters,  and  everything 
they  could  get  hold  of.  Some  were  scalded;  some  were  burned; 
others  with  broken  limbs;  and  we  were  helpless;  we  had  nothing. 
I  could  only  weep  and  pray.  I  thought  of  the  goodness  of  the 
Lord  in  not  letting  the  man  get  my  trunk  in  time,  and  then  the 
words  of  this  Psalm  came  to  my  mind  with  much  force.  '  A 
thousand  shall  fall  at  thy  side,  and  ten  thousand  at  thy  right 


Amanda  Smith.  187 

hand;  but  it  shall  not  com»'  iii^'h  tiu'c."  Oh,  liow  I  did  [)rais«'  my 
lovinj?  Father,  God. 

They  succeeded  somrhow  in  jj^tltin-r  thf  track  cit'ar,  and  our 
train  passed  on.  We  arrived  at  the  camp-^'roiind  between  twelve 
and  one  o'clock  at  ni^'ht.  Sunday  was  a  sad  day,  thouf:fh  many 
who  were  on  the  ground  knew  nothing'  of  the  accident,  yet  it 
seemed  to  cast  a  shadow.  But  the  Lord  was  with  us  and  helped. 
How  well  I  remember  some  of  the  dear  friends.  My  home  was 
with  Mrs.  .Tames  Mu.s.so.  in  their  pretty  cottage.  The  lovely 
me(<tin>rs  we  had!  1  remember  Mrs.  McGee,  of  Boston,  and  old 
Father  Waite,  of  Ip.swich.  One  day,  going  into  the  dining  tent,  he; 
introduced  me  to  the  people  as  the  "Fifteenth  Amendment." 
That  was  the  first  I  had  heard  of  (hat  bill.  I  also  n;member 
Father  Snow,  of  lioston,  Sarah  and  Laura  Clapp,  and  dear  Beenie 
Hamilton,  and  the  wonderful  tent  meeting.  She  asked  me  to  go 
with  her  to  a  little  quiet  meeting  in  a  cottage.  It  was  not  to  be  a 
large  meeting;  only  a  few  hungry  ones  who  wanted  help  specially. 
The  meeting  was  to  be  held  only  an  hour;  but  we  never  closed  it 
from  half  past  two  till  six  o'clock,  and  we  could  hardly  close  then; 
and  if  ever  I  saw  God  take  hold  of  a  meeting  and  control  it,  it  was 
that  afternoon.  More  than  a  score  of  souls  were  swept  into  the 
fountain  of  cleansing.  Some  people  were  convicted  for  pardon 
and  for  purity  on  the  spot,  and  yielded  to  God,  and  God  saved. 
Truly  it  was  realized,  "  Knock  and  it  shall  be  opened;  seek  and  ye 
shall  find;  ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you,  for  every  one  that  asketh, 
receiveth;  and  he  that  seeketh,  findeth;  and  to  him  thatknocketh, 
it  is  opened."  The  most  of  the  time  I  stood  on  my  feet  and 
exhorted,  and  sang,  and  talked,  and  prayed.  When  I  got  out  and 
went  to  start  home,  I  could  scarcely  walk.  I  was  thoroughly 
exhausted.  I  had  a  cup  of  tea,  and  lay  down  a  while,  and  was 
ready  for  another  pitched  battle.     Glory  to  God! 

Those  were  wonderful  days.  One  does  not  .see  it  in  that 
fashion  now.  Oh,  how  we  need  the  mighty  Holy  Ghost  power 
that  they  had  at  Pentecost! 

"  It  was  while  they  all  were  praying, 
It  was  while  they  al'  were  praying, 
It  was  while  they  all  were  praying 
And  believing  it  would  come, 
Came  the  power,  the  power, 
Came  the  power  that  Jesus  ^»^omised  should  come  down." 


188  AUTOBIOGKAPHY   OP 

One  day,  just  before  the  camp  meeting;  closed,  Rev.  Dr.  Cush 
man,  who  was  then  Principal  of  the  Ladies'  Seminary  at  Auburn- 
dale,  Mass.,  came  to  me  and  said:  "Sister  Smith,  have  you  ever 
been  to  Linden ville,  Vt.  ?  "     I  said,  "  No." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "that  is  my  home,  not  far  from  there.  Our 
camp  meeting  begins  such  a  day  (naming  the  day),  and  I  believe 
the  Lord  would  have  you  go  to  that  meeting,  I  think  you  would 
do  us  good.  1  have  to  leave  to-night,"  he  continued,  "or  in  the 
morning,  but  I  will  give  you  the  directions  how  to  come."  So  I 
told  the  Lord  if  He  wanted  me  to  go  to  Lindenville,  and  would 
give  me  the  money,  I  would  take  that  as  an  indication  of  His  will. 
So  the  money  came  all  right. 

On  Tuesday  morning,  1  think  it  was,  I  was  off.  I  didn't  stop 
to  eat  my  breakfast;  I  thought  I  would  wait  till  I  got  there.  I 
left  Hamilton  about  six  a.  m.  for  Boston,  so  as  to  get  as  early  a 
train  as  I  could.  I  had  no  idea  where  Vermont  was,  much  less 
Lindenville.  I  was  as  green  as  a  pea!  I  had  never  traveled  any 
distance,  and  coming  from  New  York  to  Boston,  and  then  to 
Martha's  Vineyard,  was  the  biggest  thing  I  had  ever  done.  I 
expected  to  get  to  Lindenville  about  ten  o'clock  a.  m.  When  I  got 
to  the  station  at  Boston,  I  went  to  the  ticket  office  and  asked  for  a 
ticket  to  Lindenville,  Vt.  The  man  said,  "You  won't  have  time 
to  get  a  ticket;  the  train  is  just  moving  out."  I  turned  and  said 
to  the  man,  "Put  on  my  trunk,  quick! " 

He  pitched  it  on,  and  I  got  on.  I  think  it  was  the  eight-fifteen 
train  in  the  morning.  When  the  conductor  came  I  told  him  I 
didn't  have  time  to  get  a  ticket,  so  paid  him  what  he  asked.  I 
said  to  him,  "  I  didn't  get  my  trunk  checked;  will  you  please  look 
in  the  baggage  car  and  tell  me  if  you  see  such  a  trunk?  "  describing 
the  trunk  as  best  I  could.  In  a  little  while  he  came  through,  and 
said,  "Madame,  there  is  so  much  baggage  piled  up  that  I  cannot 
tell,  exactly,  but  from  the  description  you  give  I  think  it  is  there: 
it  will  be  all  right."  So  I  was  contented.  Ten  o'clock  came, 
and  I  was  not  at  Lindenville.  Eleven  o'clock  —  twelve  o'clock  — 
not  yet.  Then  I  began  to  get  hungry.  I  saw  no  place  where  I 
could  get  even  an  apple.  Then  I  wondered  if  I  had  not  made  a 
mistake  after  all.  So  the  Devil  thought  this  was  his  chance,  and 
he  assailed  me  fiercely: 

"  You  don't  know  if  you  are  on  the  right  train.** 

**No,"l9aid,  "I  do  not." 


Amanda  Smith.  189 

"You  ought  not  to  have  come  without  gottin^'  ;i  tickt-i." 

•*No,"  I  said,  **I  suppose  not."  Tlirn  I  thought,  "Well,  I 
asked  the  Lord  about  it,"  and  tht-n  he  said,  "You  prayed,  but 
you  didn't  pray  enough." 

"Perhaps  I  didn't,"  I  thought. 

Then  a  gentleman  got  in,  and  ho  looked  very  pleasant,  and  I 
thought  I  would  ask  him  if  I  was  on  the  right  train  to  Linden- 
villo,  Vt.  So  I  went  to  him  and  .said,  '*  You  will  excuse  me,  sir, 
but  I  want  to  ask  you  if  this  is  the  train  that  goes  to  Linden- 
ville,  Vt.?" 

He  said  very  sharply,  "I  don't  know."  Then  everybody 
seemed  to  look  at  me.  All  the  people  seemed  so  strang(\  It 
seemed  to  me  I  had  never  seen  that  kind  of  people  before.  And 
they  seemed  as  though  they  had  not  seen  many  of  my  kind  before! 
My!  how  they  stared  at  me!  After  a  while  a  lady  got  on,  and  I 
thought  I  would  ask  her.  And  I  said,  "Madame,  will  you  tell  me 
if  this  train  goes  to  Lindenville,  Vt.  ?  " 

She  pulled  herself  up,  and  said,  "I  don't  know."  Then  I 
thought  I  would  ask  the  conductor,  but  he  sailed  through  in  such 
a  rush  that  I  couldn't  ask  him.  Then  the  Devil  said,  "  You  think 
the  Lord  wanted  you  to  go  to  Lindenville,  Vt.;  but  if  the  Lord 
wanted  you  to  go,  somebody  would  know  if  you  are  on  the  right 
train,  and  be  able  to  tell  you."  And  I  thought,  "Yes,  that  is  so; 
it  does  seem  so."  And  imagine  my  surprise  when  I  never  got  to 
Lindenville,  Vt.,  till  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  But  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we  stopped  at  a  station,  and  Rev.  Mr. 
Luce  and  his  wife  and  children  got  on,  and  they  spied  me,  and 
Brother  Luce  came  up,  and  said,  "Why,  Amanda  Smith,  where 
are  you  going?" 

"To  Lindenville,  Vt.,  sir." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "we  go  as  far  as  St.  Johnsville.  Then  we 
are  going  up  to  Lindenville  on  Sunday  to  the  camp  meeting." 

I  was  so  glad.  Then  he  asked  me  if  I  had  had  anything  to 
eat.  I  told  him  no,  and  they  gave  me  some  lunch,  and  that 
helped  me. 

When  we  got  to  Lindenville,  J)r.  (^ushan  was  there  and  m«'t 
me  at  the  station,  and  hunted  for  my  trunk  high  and  low;  but  he 
could  not  find  it;  there  was  no  such  trunk  there.  And  I  had  to 
stay  just  with  the  clothes  that  I  had  on,  and  had  traveled  in,  up 
till  the  next  Saturday. 


190  Autobiography  of 

Well,  WO  went  lo  the  camp  meeting  <it  Lindenville.  We  had 
ji  good  time.  The  Lord  blessed  me  very  greatly.  It  was  very 
primitive,  but  the  people  were  very  hearty  and  kind. 

I  remember  Rev.  Mr.  McCaun  was  Presiding  Elder,  and  had 
charge  of  the  meeting.  I  shall  never  forget  the  lecture  he  gave 
me  the  morning  I  left.  He  was  very  much  afraid  that  I  would  be 
spoiled;  and  I  remember  as  I  sat  before  him,  he  charged  me  with 
vehemence;  when  he  told  incidents  where  colored  people  had  been 
made  a  good  deal  of,  and  how  they  came  down,  and  how  they 
were  spoiled,  and  how  it  affected  them,  and  hurt  their  influence, 
I  smiled,  and  he  went  on  with  his  charge.  People  pitied  me  for 
his'great  solicitude,  and  I  felt  that  his  labor  was  in  vain.  There 
I  sat  in  the  congregation,  and  it  was  his  farewell  remarks,  as  the 
camp  meeting  had  closed  that  morning.  I  didn't  know  whether 
to  stay  for  another  camp  meeting,  or  whether  to  go.  Some  laughed, 
and  others  seemed  to  feel  sorry,  I  didn't  knoAv  what  to  do;  but  I 
prayed  mightily.  But  the  Lord  kept  me,  and  none  of  these  things 
have  come  upon  me.     How  I  praise  Him! 

On  Saturday  we  went  to  Boston.  Dr.  Cushan  went  to  the 
store  and  got  me  some  things  to  help  me  through  Sunday.  I  was 
entertained  at  the  home  of  Dr.  Hopkins,  of  Auburndale.  I  spoke 
several  times  on  Sunday.  Sunday  night  we  had  a  very  precious 
meeting  at  the  Methodist  Church;  so  that  I  went  home  cheered 
in  heart,  though  I  had  no  trunk.  I  went  to  my  room,  and  just  as 
1  was  getting  ready  for  bed  I  thought  to  myself,  "  I  must  make  a 
very  special  prayer  for  my  trunk."  So  I  knelt  to  pray,  and  the 
words  of  John  15:7  came  forcibly  to  my  mind:  "  If  ye  abide  in  me, 
and  my  words  abide  in  you,  jou  shall  ask  what  you  will,  and  it 
shall  be  done  unto  you."  And  I  said,  "Now,  Lord,  here  is  Thy 
word,  and  as  far  as  I  know,  I  believe  that  I  am  abiding  in  Thee, 
and  that  Thy  word  is  abiding  in  me.  And  now,  Lord,  I'm  going 
to  ask  you  about  my  trunk.  Grant  me  this  petition,  that  I  will 
either  get  my  trunk,  or  hear  from  it  to-morrow." 

Then  these  words  came  to  me:  "If  thou  canst  believe  all 
things  are  possible  with  them  that  believe."  And  I  said,  "Lord, 
I  believe  I  will  get  my  trunk  to-morrow." 

Just  then  Satan  said,  clearly,  "That  trunk  has  been  gone  a 
week,  and  you  have  hunterd  for  it  high  and  low,  and  Dr.  Cushan, 
and  Dr.  Hopkins,  and  other  friends,  have  looked  for  it;  you 
have  sent  telegrams,  and  you  have  not  heard  a  word  of  it;   and 


Amanda  Smith.  191 

now,  for  you  to  say  you  l)rlirvr  y«»u  will  ^-^"-t  it  lo-inorrow,  is  prt- 
sumplioii;  and  when  i)fo|.l.' ai.- saiictilird  and  iiol  presumptuous, 
they  never  say  anythin-  till  they  Unow  il." 

And  then  I  began  to  get  a  litth'  frightened.  I  said,  "Oh, 
Lord,  Thou  knowest  I  do  not  mean  to  be  presumptuous.  But 
somehow  or  otlier  I  believe  I  will  get  my  trunk  to-morrow;"  and 
every  time  I  said  "1  believe"  to  God,  it  seemed  to  me  my  faith 
was  strengthened,  and  there  was  a  sweet  assurance  and  i)eacecame 
over  my  si)irit  that  did  not  come  when  the  least  shadow  of  doubt 
would  try  to  enter  my  heart.  But  the  Tempter  harassed  me.  Oh, 
how  he  harassed  me!  I  rose  from  my  knees,  and  went  over  to  the 
little  stand  in  the  corner,  and  I  sajd,  "  Lord,  give  me  some  word 
to  help  me."  Then  I  opened  my  Bible,  and  my  eyes  fell  on  these 
words:  "A  crooked  and  perverse  generation  seeketh  after  a  sign, 
and  there  shall  be  no  sign  given  them,"  and  I  shut  the  book,  and 
said,  "  Lord,  I  don't  want  any  sign.  I  believe  I  will  get  my  trunk 
to-morrow."  Then  Satan  seemed  to  leave  me,  and  I  went  to  bed 
in  peace.     I  believed  God  all  night. 

The  first  thing  in  the  morning  the  thought  of  my  trunk  came 
into  my  mind,and  I  said,  "Lord,I  believe  I  will  get  my  trunk  to-day." 

I  didn't  tell  anybody.  I  just  kept  it  before  the  Lord.  I  went 
down  to  breakfast.  Dr.  Hopkins  was  such  a  kind  gentleman.  He 
read  the  Bible  for  family  prayer,  then  he  knelt  down  to  pray,  and 
asked  the  Lord  so  earnestly  about  my  trunk.  I  did  not  say  any- 
thing to  him  about  what  I  had  believed  upstairs.  At  breakfast  he 
said,  "Sister  Smith,  we  will  go  to  town  this  morning,  and  have 
another  search  for  your  trunk."  This  was  Tuesday  morning. 
They  had  hunted  everywhere  Monday,  and  had  no  tidings. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  he  and  I  started  for  Boston.  He 
said  to  me,  **Now,  Sister  Smith,  you  can  go  to  Miss  01api)'s,  and 
I  will  go  to  the  baggai:e  room  and  inquire  if  they  have  heard  any- 
thing about  your  trunk." 

So  I  went  on  to  Miss  Clapp's.  19  Winter  street.  She  was  busy 
in  the  outer  room,  and  told  me  to  be  seated  in  the  parlor.  I  did 
so.  After  awhile  she  called  out  and  said,  "  Sister  Smith,  have  you 
heard  anything  about  your  trunk?  " 

"No,"  I  said. 

Then  she  in  a  very  pleasant  manner  said,  "Well,  somehow  I 
believe  you  will  get  it.  1  had  a  valise  lost  once,  and  it  was  gone 
three  months,  but  I  got  it  all  right." 


192  Autobiography  o'f  Amanda  Smith. 

I  thought  to  myself,  "Three  months,  indeed;  I  cannot  wait 
three  months;  I  want  my  trunk  now."  Still  T  did  not  tell  her  how 
I  had  believed  in  God.  As  I  sat  in  the  chair  I  threw  my  head 
back  and  began  to  sing  this  little  hymn,  that  had  been  blessed  so 
wonderfully  of  God  to  so  many  souls: 

"  All  I  want,  all  I  want,  all  I  want, 
Is  a  little  more  faith  in  Jesus." 

I  sang  two  verses;  and  as  I  was  repeating  the  chorus  of  the 
last  verse  a  knock  came  at  the  door,  and  as  Miss  Clapp  was  not  in 
the  room,  I  got  up  and  went  to  the  door:  and  when  I  opened  it, 
there  stood  a  great  big  Irishrnan,  about  six  feet  high,  with  my 
trunk.  And  as  he  wheeled  it  in,  he  said,  "Here  is  a  trunk  for 
Amanda  Smith,"  and  I  shouted,  "  Praise  the  Lord,"  and  he  looked 
as  though  he  was  frightened.  He  wheeled  the  trunk  in  and 
stepped  back,  and  I  said,  "  You  needn't  be  afraid;  I'm  only  believ- 
ing in  God.  That  is  all.  Glory!"  And  he  cut  down  stairs  and 
I  have  never  seen  him  since! 

Oh!  how  Satan  tried  to  wrest  my  faith.  But  God  stood  by  me 
as  He  stood  by  Joshua;  so  that  when  the  Tempter  comes  in  like  a 
flood  the  Lord  shall  lift  up  a  standard  against  him.  "Fear  not. 
Be  strong  and  of  good  courage.  Said  I  not  unto  thee  if  thou 
wouldst  believe  thou  shouldst  see  the  glory  of  God?"  Amen. 
Amen. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

MY  EXPERIENCE  AT  DK.  TAYLOU's  CHURCH,  NEW  YORK,  AND  ELSE- 
WHERE—  THE  GENERAL  CONFERENCE  AT  NASHVILLE  —  HOW 
I  WAS  TREATED  AND  HOW  IT  ALL  CAME  OUT  —  HOW  THINGS 
CHANGE. 

I  think  it  was  in  October,  1870,  or  1871,  It  was  when  Miss 
Sarah  Smilfy,  the  Quakeress,  was  very  ix)puhir.  She  was  giving 
Bible  readings  at  that  time  in  different  churches — Dr.  Cuyler's 
Church  in  Brooklyn,  at  the  Methodist  Churches,  and  others.  I 
was  holding  meetings  at  Twenty-fourth  Street  Methodist  Church, 

with  Rev.  Dr. ,  and  Miss  Smiley  was  giving  a  series  of  Bible 

readings  at  Dr.  Taylor's  Church  at  the  same  time.  Some  ladies  at 
Brooklyn,  who  had  been  attending  the  Twenty-fourth  Street 
Church,  came  one  evening  and  said  to  me,  "Oh,  Amanda  Smith, 
have  you  been  to  hear  Miss  Smiley  at  Dr.  Taylor's  Church?" 
And  I  said,  "  No." 

"Well,"  they  said,  "she  is  to  be  there  to-morrow  afternoon, 
and  it  is  to  be  her  last  Bible  reading.  It  is  on  such  a  subject," 
naming  the  subject.  "Oh,  yesterday  it  was  grand.  I  thought  of 
you,  and  wished  you  were  there.  So  I  made  up  my  mind  I  would 
come  and  tell  you  to-night,  and  maybe  you  could  go  to-morrow 
afternoon." 

I  was  not  holding  afternoon  meetings,  onl}'  evening  meetings, 
myself,  so  I  thanked  them  very  kindly  and  thought  I  would  ^o 
and  hear  Miss  Smiley.  So  I  did.  I  went  early.  There  was  quit*' 
a  company  gathered,  though  it  was  a  half  hour  before  the  time. 
A  number  of  gentlemen  were  present,  and  ladies  whom  I  had  met, 
some  at  Ocean  Grove,  others  at  Dr.  Palmer's  Tuesday  meetings, 
and  some  of  these  ladi»'S  said  to  me,  "  Now,  Amanda  Smith,  while 
we  an*  waiting  it  would  be  nice  if  you  would  sing." 

TliL'  "  Winnowed  Hymns"  were  very  popular  then;  they  were 
(193) 


194  Autobiography  op 

new,  and  there  were  a  number  of  pieces  I  knew  very  well.  In 
those  days  I  used  to  sing  a  great  deal,  and  somehow  the  Lord 
always  seemed  to  bless  my  singing.  So  these  ladies  were  very 
anxious  to  have  me  sing.  I  told  them  I  did  not  liKe  to  do  so;  I 
thought  it  might  not  be  pleasant  in  this  new  church,  and  it  was 
hot  a  Methodist  Church,  and  perhaps  they  might  not  like  it.  But 
they  told  me  it  would  be  all  right.  Several  of  these  ladies  were 
members  of  the  church.  They  assured  me  that  it  would  be  no 
breach  of  propriety  for  me  to  sing.     So  when  they  urged  me,  I  sang. 

The  Lord  blessed  the  singing.  When  I  got  through  with  one 
piece,  they  asked  me  to  sing  something  else.  They  made  tne 
selections;  I  do  not  remember  just  now  what  they  were,  but  I  sang 
another  piece.  And  while  they  were  selecting  another  piece,  I 
said,  "I  think  I  had  better  not  sing  any  more  just  now,"  and 
asked  the  Lord  to  heli^  me  and  not  let  me  be  singing  when  Miss 
Smiley  came  in.  I  thought  she  might  think  I  had  put  myself  for- 
ward.    And  the  Lord  saved  me  from  that  mortification. 

The  ladies  were  still  urging  me,  and  said  they  knew  Miss 
Smiley  would  be  rather  pleased.  But  I  did  not  feel  so.  So  Miss 
Smiley  came  in  when  there  was  no  singing  going  on.  A  minute 
or  two  later,  as  they  were  urging  me  so,  I  presume  I  would  have 
been  singing.     Oh,  how  glad  I  was  that  the  Lord  had  kept  me. 

Miss  Smiley  got  through  with  her  Bible  reading  beautifully. 
It  was  very  interesting,  and  everybody  seemed  to  enjo^'  it.  The 
gentlemen  came  up  and  shook  hands  with  me,  and  thanked  me  for 
the  singing.  The  ladies  who  were  in  thanked  me  for  the  singing, 
and  as  I  was  very  near  Miss  Smile}',  I  thanked  her  for  the  address 
and  told  her  how  much  it  had  helped  me,  but  I  thought  she 
seemed  rather  cool.  Then  I  was  frightened,  and  sorry  I  had  said 
anything  to  her. 

By  and  by  I  saw  a  lady,  tall,  with  black  hair  and  a  very  sal- 
low complexion,  and  a  tremendous  air,  and  a  countenance  not 
brightened  by  sweetness  —  but  still,  she  passed.  I  saw  this  lady  go 
up  to  Miss  Smiley  and  begin  talking  to  her,  and  I  saw  Miss  Smiley 
shaking  her  head;  but  I  did  not  know  what  it  meant. 

T  did  not  rush  out  through  the  ladies;  I  quietly  waited  and 
kept  behind,  so  as  not  to  be  in  the  way;  and  after  this  lady  turned 
away  from  Miss  Smiley,  she  looked  at  me  with  a  scowl  and  a  loOk 
of  contempt  on  her  face.  She  stepped  inside  of  a  pew  and  beck- 
oned me  and  said,  "Come  here,  come  here." 


Amanda  Smith.  195 

So  I  went  up  to  her  with  sill  th«'  smiles  aiiu  j^racc  I  was  capa- 
ble of,  and  slu'  drt'W  lu*rs<'If  up  in  the  most  (liguiflt'd  mamuT  and 
said,  "Wlio  told  you  to  come  here?"  And  she  said  it  in  such  a 
tone  that  it  frij>:htened  me.  It  went  all  over  me,  and  I  b"_T:an  to 
stammer  —a  thini,'  1  never  do  —  and  I  tried  to  think  of  the  name 
»>f  the  lady  who  had  asked  me  —  for  I  knew  her  very  w»'ll  —  but  to 
save  nie  her  ii  iiiie  would  not  come.  She  was  at  the  meeting,  but 
had  irot  to  the  door,  and    was  sp-akiiii;  to  some  one;    and  I  looked 

round  and  said.  "Mrs.  ,  Mrs.  ."  but  I  could  not  think  of 

the  name.  I  lokl  her  some  ladies  had  told  me  about  Miss  Smiley 's 
meeting,  and  I  thought  I  would  like  to  come  and  hear  Miss 
Smiley. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "we  have  invited  Mi.ss  Smiley  here." 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "I  beg  your  pardon,  madame." 

"Never  mind,  pass  right  out,  pass  right  out,"  she  said,  wav- 
ing her  hand  toward  the  door. 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "Madame — "  and  she  said,  "Pass  out,  pass 
out,"  and  she  drove  me  awaj*.        ♦ 

Some  of  the  ladies  were  passing,  and  they  said,  "Oh,  my,  this 
is  too  bad." 

"What  is  the  matter?"  another  said.  And  another,  "Oh, 
that  is  a  shame."     "What  is  it?" 

By  the  time  I  got  to  the  door  there  was  so  much  sympathy 
and  pity  for  me  that  they  almost  killed  me.  I  cried,  almost  to 
convulsions.  I  was  nearly  dead.  If  they  had  not  pitied  me  and 
seemed  to  feel  so  sorry  for  me,  I  could  have  got  on  well  enough. 

I  went  up  to  Si.xth  avenue  and  got  on  the  car,  and  some  of  the 
ladies  got  on  the  same  car;  and  they  sat  down  beside  me  and  tried 
to  comfort  me,  and  they  made  it  worse.  I  was  ashamed  of  myself, 
but  I  could  not  help  myself.  It  seemed  to  me  I  had  lost  all  con- 
trol of  my  feelings.  I  cried  about  that  thing  for  about  two  days, 
every  time  I  thought  of  it.  And  it  made  quite  a  stir.  The  ladies 
came  from  downtown  to  see  me  about  it,  and  to  inquire  about  it. 
And  I  prayed  so  much  for  the  woman,  for  I  thought  she  needed  to 
be  i)rayed  for,  and  I  did  pray  for  her  with  all  my  heart.  So  I 
think  that  she  got  th«*  worst  of  it  in  the  end! 

Sometimes  people  say  to  me,  "Oh.  Amanda  Smith,  how  very 
popular  you  are." 

"Yes,"  I  say,  "but  I  paid  for  it."  I  paid  a  good  price  formy 
popularity.      I  don't  know  whether  the  lady  is  living  or  dead.      I 


196  Autobiography  op 

have  never  seen  her  since.  Poor  thing,  how  I  have  pitied  hef !  I 
suppose  the  Lord  will  get  her  through  somehow.  But  that  is  the 
only  time  1  was  ever  ordered  out  of  a  church  from  a  religious 
meeting,  or  any  other  kind. 

Again,  it  was  in  1870  or  1871,  when  my  dear  friend,  Mrs. 
Hannah  Whitehall  Smith,  was  holding  those  marvelous  Bible 
readings  in  Germantown  and  Philadelphia  that  God  blessed  so 
wonderfully.  I  had  often  heard  them  spoken  of,  and  read  of 
them,  and  thought  how  I  would  like  to  go;  but  then  I  did  not 
know  whether  they  would  allow  colored  persons  to  go.  The  Lord 
often  would  send  me  around  among  white  people  where  there  was  a 
good  meeting  going  on,  that  I  might  learn  more  perfectly  some 
lesson  from  His  Word. 

One  day  I  was  on  my  way  to  West  Philadelphia  when  Mr. 
Robert  Pearson  Smith,  who  had  been  off  in  California,  doing  some 
evangelistic  work,  I  believe,  and  had  got  home  just  a  few  days 
before,  got  on  the  car,  and  after  he  had  sat  down  a  little  while  he 
looked  over  and  recognized  me.  He  came  and  said,  "  I  think  this 
is  Amanda  Smith?"  I  said,  "Yes."  He  took  a  seat  by  me,  and 
did  not  have  any  fear  or  embarrassment  from  my  being  a  colored 
woman.  How  real,  and  kind,  and  true  he  was.  He  said,  "Amanda 
Smith,  has  thee  attended  any  of  the  meetings  that  my  wife, 
Hannah,  has  been  holding?" 

"No,"  I  said.  "I  have  thought  I  would  like  so  much  to  go, 
but  I  did  not  know  if  they  would  allow  colored  persons  to  go." 

"Oh,  yes,  Amanda,"  he  said,  "there  would  be  no  objection 
to  thee  going,  and  I  think  thee  would  enjoy  the  meeting  very 
much.  God  has  wonderfully  blessed  Hannah,  and  scores  of  ladies 
of  rank  have  been  led  to  consecrate  themselves  to  the  Lord,  and 
have  realized  great  blessing.  She  will  hold  a  meeting  at  1018 
Arch  street,  on  Friday.     Thee  must  go." 

I  thanked  him  very  kindly,  and  told  him  I  would  do  so. 

"Now,"  I  thought  to  myself,  "the  Lord  has  answered  my 
prayer,  and  opened  the  way  for  me,  and  no  doubt  He  has  some 
blessed  lesson  to  teach  me  from  His  Word;  for  Mrs.  Smith  is  such 
a  wonderful  Bible  teacher." 

So  I  looked  forward  to  Friday  with  great  delight.  When  the 
day  came  I  got  ready  and  went,  prayerfully.  But  somehow  I 
seemed  to  have  a  little  trembling  come  over  me  as  I  neared  the 
corner  of  Tenth  and  Arch  streets;  and  I  said  to  myself,  "  I  wonder 


Amanda  Smith,  197 

what  is  going  to  happen:  my  heart  has  become  so  sad  all  in  a 
moment," 

Then  I  began  to  pray  more  earnestly  that  the  Lord  would  help 
me  and  lead  me.  Sometimes  these  feeling  of  sadness,  though  uuex- 
plainable,  are  the  omen  of  a  great  blessing  from  God;  at  another 
time  they  may  indicate  disapiH.)intment  and  sadness,  .so  that  in 
either  case  God  permits  ihem,  and  i)repares  the  lu'art  by  prayer  to 
receive  the  blessing,  or  to  endun-  the  st)rrow  or  disappointment. 
Praise  His  name  for  this. 

•hist  when  I  was  about  to  turn  the  corner,  I  saw  two  ladies 
coming.  I  knew  them,  and  they  were  on  ihj  way  to  the  meeting. 
I  thought,  "  I  will  let  them  pass,  and  I  will  follow  close  on  behind, 
and  go  in  just  when  they  are  fairly  in."  I  always  tried  to  avoid 
anything  like  pushing  myself,  or  going  where  I  was  not  wanted. 
And  then  I  knew  how  sensitive  many  white  people  are  about  a 
colored  person,  so  I  always  kept  back.  I  don't  think  that  anybody 
can  ever  say  that  Amanda  Smith  pushed  herself  in  where  she  was 
not  wanted.  I  was  something  like  the  groundhog;  when  he  .sees 
his  shadow  he  goes  in;  I  always  could  see  my  shadow  far  enough 
ahead  to  keep  out  of  the  way.  But  I  thought  as  Mr.  Pearson 
Smith  had  so  kindly  told  me  that  it  would  be  all  right  for  me  to 
go  to  this  meeting,  that  I  would  not  be  intruding;  no,  certainly 
not.  When  these  ladies  got  up  to  me,  they  stopped,  and  Sfxjke  to 
me  very  kindly;  they  said,  "Well,  Amanda  Smith,  how  does  thee 
do?     Is  thee  going  to  the  meeting?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  have  heard  and  read  a  good  deal  about  the 
meeting,  and  I  thought  I  would  go  to-day." 

I  saw  they  looked  a  little  nervous  or  queer,  so  I  said  to  them, 
•'  I  met  Mr.  Pearson  Smith  the  other  day,  and  he  told  me  to  go; 
there  would  be  no  objection,  and  the  meetings  were  very  wonder- 
ful in  ble.ssing,  and  he  thought  I  would  enjoy  them." 

"  Well,  Amanda,"  one  of  the  ladies  said,  "  the  meeting  will  be 
very  full  to-day,  and  there  will  be  a  great  many  very  wealthy 
ladies  in  from  Gemantown,  and  West  Philadelphia,  and  WaltuiL 
Hills,  and  the  meetings  are  especially  for  this  class,  and  I  think 
thee  had  better  not  go  to-day;  some  other  day  would  be  better  for 
thee."     And  then  they  i>olitely  bowed,  and  went  on. 

I  never  said  a  word.  I  was  dumbfounded;  and  there  I  stood. 
I  thought,  "How  is  this?  I  have  been  praying  about  this  meet- 
ing ever  since  I  .saw  Mr.  Smith,  and  I  have  been  e.xpecting  a  real 


198  Autobiography  op 

feast  to  my  soul  to-day,  and  now  these  ladies  feel  it  won't  do  for 
me  to  go,  because  I  am  a  colored  woman,  and  so  many  of  the 
wealthy  ladies  will  be  there.  They  don't  know  but  that  the  Lord 
may  have  sent  a  message  to  some  of  them  through  me."  So  I 
said,  "I  will  linger  about  till  I  know  the  meeting  is  well  begun, 
then  I  will  go  and  stand  at  the  door." 

Now  I  felt  in  my  heart  it  was  right  to  do  this  instead  of  going 
back  home.  I  did  so.  "  And  after  all  it  may  be  I  may  hear  the 
word  the  Lord  has  for  me;  for  He  meant  something  by  my  com- 
ing." So  I  slipped  in  quietly  and  stood  at  the  door;  there  were  a 
number  of  others  standing  up.  Just  as  Mrs.  Smith  was  in  the 
midst  of  her  good  Bible  address,  sure  enough  the  Lord  had  a  mes- 
sage for  me,  and  I  got  a  great  blessing  as  I  stood  at  the  door. 
Praise  the  Lord! 

And  now,  the  change  is,  instead  of  Amanda  Smith,  the  col- 
ored washwoman's  presence  having  a  bad  effect  on  a  meeting 
where  ladies  of  wealth  and  rank  are  gathered  to  pray  and  sing  His 
blessing,  they  think  a  failure  more  possible  if  the  same  Amanda 
Smith,  the  colored  woman,  cannot  be  present.  This  is  all  the 
Lord's  doings,  and  marvelous  in  our  eyes. 

At  the  close  of  this  meeting  as  the  ladies  were  passing  out, 
one  and  another  came  to  me  and  spoke  to  me,  and  shook  hands; 
"Why,  this  is  Amanda  Smith." 

"Yes." 

"Oh,  here  is  Amanda  Smith;  why  didn't  you  sing?"  And 
another,  "Oh,  I  have  heard  you."  And  another,  "Oh,  I  wish  you 
had  sung  such  a  piece."  And  another,  "  Why  didn't  you  speak?  " 
And  another,  "  I  have  heard  you  sing  such  a  piece  at  Ocean  Grove 
at  such  a  time,  or  at  Round  Lake."  I  was  glad  of  this,  for  I 
thought,  "  After  all,  I  have  not  spoiled  the  spirit  of  the  meeting." 

But  then,  I  was  not  so  well  known  then,  and  many  people 
were  shy  of  me,  and  are  yet.  But  I  belong  to  Royalt} ,  and  arii  well 
acquainted  with  the  King  of  Kings,  and  am  better  known  and 
better  understood  among  the  great  family  above  than  I  am  on 
earth.  But  I  thank  God  the  time  is  coming,  and  we  "  Shall  know 
each  other  better  when  the  mists  have  rolled awa5\"  Hallelujah! 
Amen. 

In  May,  '70,  or  '71,  the  General  Conference  of  the  A.  M.  E. 
Church  was  held  at  Nashville,  Tenn.  It  was  the  first  time  they 
ever  held  a  General  Conference  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  I 


Amanda  Smith.  109 

had  be»Mi  laboring  in  Sal«'m,  wIhto  the  Lord  first  sent  mo,  and 
blessed  me  in  winning  souls;  the  people  were  not  rich;  they  gave 
me  a  home,  and  something  to  eat;  but  very  little  money.  So, 
before  I  could  jret  back  to  New  York,  my  home,  I  took  a  service 
place,  Ht  Mrs.  Mater's,  in  Philadelphia,  corner  of  Coach  and  Brown 
streets,  while  her  servant,  Mary,  went  to  Wilmington  to  see  her 
child:  she  was  to  be  gone  a  month,  but  she  stayed  five  weeks;  and 
now  the  Annual  Conference  was  in  session,  at  the  A.  M.  E.  Union 
Church,  near  by  where  I  was,  so  I  had  a  chance  to  attend. 

The  election  of  delegates  to  the  General  Conference  the  next 
year  was  a  very  prominent  feature  of  the  Conference;  of  course 
every  minister  wanted,  or  hoped  to  be  elected  as  delegate.  As  I 
listened,  my  heart  throbbed.  This  was  the  first  time  in  all  thes(? 
years  that  this  religious  body  of  black  men,  with  a  black  church 
from  beginning  to  end,  was  to  be  assembled  south  of  Mason  and 
Dixon's  line. 

But  the  great  battle  had  been  fought,  and  the  victory  won: 
slavery  had  been  abolished;  we  were  really  free.  There  were  en 
thusiastic  speeches  made  on  these  points.  Oh,  how  I  wished  I  could 
go;  and  a  deep  desire  took  xjossession  of  me;  but  then,  who  was  I  ?  I 
had  no  money,  no  prominence  at  that  time,  except  being  a  plain 
Christian  woman,  heard  of  and  known  by  a  few  of  the  brethrt'n, 
as  a  woman  preacher,  which  was  to  be  dreaded  by  the  majority, 
especially  the  upper  ten.  Fortunately  I  had  a  good  friend  in 
Bishop  Campbell,  knowing  him  so  well  years  before  he  was  elected 
to  this  office.  Also  Bishop  Wayman,  Bishop  Brown,  and  Bishop 
Quinn,  were  friends  of  mine.  I  believe  I  always  had  their  sym- 
pathy and  friendship.  But  there  was  no  opportunity  for  me  to 
speak  to  them  personally.  So  I  ventured  to  ask  one  of  the  breth- 
ren, who  had  been  elected  delegate,  to  tell  me  how  much  it  would 
cost  to  go  to  Nashville;  I  would  like  to  go  if  it  did  not  cost  too 
much. 

He  looked  at  me  in  surprise,  mingled  with  half  disgust;  the 
very  idea  of  one  looking  like  me  to  want  to  go  to  General  Confer- 
ence; they  cut  their  eye  at  my  big  poke  Quaker  bonnet,  with  not 
a  flower,  not  a  feather.  He  said,  "I  tell  you,  Sister,  it  will  cost 
money  to  go  down  there;  and  if  you  ain't  got  plenty  of  it,  it's  no 
use  to  go;  "  and  turned  away  and  smiled;  another  said: 

"  What  does  she  want  to  go  for?  " 

"  Woman  preacher;  they  want  to  be  ordained,"  was  the  reply. 


200  Autobiography  op 

•'I  mean  to  fight  that  thing,"  said  the  other.  "Yes,  ind(»ed, 
so  will  I,"  said  another. 

Then  a  slight  look  to  see  if  I  took  it  in.  I  did;  but  in  spite 
of  it  all  I  believed  God  would  have  me  go.  He  knew  that  the 
thought  of  ordination  had  never  once  entered  my  mind,  for  I  had 
received' my  ordination  from  Him, Who  said,  "Ye  have  not  chosen 
Me,  but  I  have  chosen  you,  and  ordained  you,  that  you  might  go 
and  bring  forth  fruit,  and  that  your  fruit  might  remain." 

I  spoke  to  some  of  the  good  sisters  who  were  expecting  to  go: 
they  said  they  did  not  know  what  it  would  cost.  So  I  went  home, 
and  prayed,  and  asked  the  Lord  to  help  me;  and  the  conviction 
that  I  was  to  go  deepened,  and  yet  it  seemed  so  impossible.  Just 
before  the  Conference  closed  I  ventured  to  ask  another  good 
brother,  who  had  been  elected  delegate,  and  whom  I  knew  very 
well,  and  he  was  so  nice,  I  thought  he  would  tell  me.  "Brother 
S.,"  I  said,  "how  much  do  you  think  it  will  cost'''  "  This  was  the 
uppermost  thought  then — the  cost  to  go  to  Nashville.  "Oh,  my 
sister,"  he  replied,  "I  don't  know;  it  will  take  all  of  a  hundred 
dollars;  "  and  with  a  significant  toss  of  the  head  shot  through  the 
door,  and  I  saw  him  no  more  till  I  met  him  next  year  at  Nashville; 
and  that  was  a  surprise,  but  he  managed  to  speak  to  me,  as  we 
both  stopped  at  the  Sumner  House,  and  sat  at  the  same  table. 

I  was  quite  a  curiosity  to  most  of  the  visitors,  especially  the 
Southern  brethren,  in  my  very  plain  Quaker  dress;  I  was  eyed 
with  critical  suspection  as  being  there  to  agitate  the  question  of 
the  ordination  of  women.  All  about,  in  the  little  groups  that 
would  be  gathered  talking,  could  be  heard,  "Who  is  she?" 

"Preacher  woman." 

"What  does  she  want  here?" 

"I  mean  to  fight  that  thing." 

"I  wonder  what  day  it  will  come  up?" 

Of  course,  I  was  a  rank  stranger  to  most  of  them;  the  bishops, 
and  all  those  whom  I  did  know,  had  all  got  there  before  me,  and 
were  settled,  and  I  was  not  going  to  trouble  them  for  anything. 
Then  those  of  the  ladies  whom  I  knew,  wives  of  ministers  or 
bishops,  were  dressed  to  the  height  of  their  ability;  I  could  not 
rank  with  them;  sol  was  all  alone;  "And  His  brethren  did  not 
believe  in  Him."     "The  servant  is  not  above  his  Lord." 

No  one  but  God  knows  what  I  passed  through  the  first  three 
days.     God,  in  answer  to  prayer,  had  marvelously  opened  my  way 


Amanda  Smiih.  201 

to  1:0;  through  thr  kimlnt'ss  i»f  my  il.-ar  liiriul,  Mrs.  Kibboy,  of 
Albany,  N.  Y.,  who  is  now  in  liciivcn,  1  had  my  outfit;  a  pretty 
tan  (Inss,  with  a  drab  shawl  and  bound  to  match.  I  thought  I 
was  tino;  but  bless  you,  I  found  1  did  not  shine  in  that  land,  worth 
a  nickel;  for  my  people,  as  a  rule,  like  fine  show. 

Before  I  left  New  York  for  Nashville,  I  had  heard  that  the 
bishoi)S  were  to  have  a  certain  number  of  tickets  at  rt'duccd  rates; 
so  I  wrote  Bishop  Campbell  and  asked  him  if  h.'  would  get  me  a 
ticket.  About  two  weeks  after,  he  was  passing  through  New  York, 
and  called  to  see  me,  and  explained  the  matter.  How  very  kind 
he  was.  God  bless  his  memory.  I  gave  him  the  money— thirty 
some  dollars  — and  in  a  day  or  two  he  sent  me  the  ticket.  Now  I 
thought  I  was  all  right,  and  so  thanked  the  Lord.  He  had 
answered  prayer  up  to  this  time  in  all  that  I  had  asked. 

I  was  expecting  when  I  got  to  Philadelphia  to  find  several 
ladies  who  had  told  me  they  were  expecting  to  go  without  fail; 
but  when  I  got  there,  there  was  but  one  lady — Sisttr  Rurhy— and 
hi'r  husband;  there  were  about  twenty  or  thirty  preachers,  and 
just  two  ladies. 

Poor  Sister  Burley  was  glad  I  was  going,  as  she  was  alone; 
and  I  was  glad  she  was  going,  as  1  wjls  alone.  She  and  I  kept 
together  as  much  as  her  husband  would  allow  her;  Broth. t  Burh-y 
was  a  remarkably  s.-lfish  man,  and  stout  acciirdingly;  if  he  dropped 
his  handkerchief  his  wife  must  be  by  him  to  catch  it  before  it 
touched  the  ground,  or  pick  it  up  immediately,  or  get  him  a  clean 
one. 

Of  course,  I  was  only  a  visitor.  We  arrived  three  days  before 
the  opening  of  the  Conference.  This  was  to  give  all  the  delegates 
lime  to  get  in.  I  thought  I  would  have  no  difficulty  in  getting  a 
place  to  stop,  and,  perhaps,  it  would  not  have  been  so  bad  if  I  had 
been  more  stylish  looking. 

We  arrived,  I  think,  about  two  P.  M.  Friday;  we  were  driven 
to  a  large  church  where  tickets  were  given  with  the  name  and 
address  where  each  one  was  to  stop.  Now,  there  were  fiv«5  or  six 
ladies,  but  none  whom  I  knew;  they  seemed  to  eye  me  shari)ly, 
but  took  no  further  notice;  by  and  by,  plans  were  settled,  and  two 
or  three  of  these  ladies,  and  six  or  eight  ministers  got  in  a  'bus  and 
w  re  taken  to  their  placs.  I  inquired  of  those  who  had  charge, 
but  th.y  said  they  only  had  the  names  of  thos(!  who  w.-re  dele- 
gates. P(M)r  me;  I  almost  cried,  and  was  tempted  to  wish  I  had 
not  come. 


203  Autobiography  op 

Sist(  r  Burley  felt  sorry  for  mv,  and  asked  her  husband  if  hv 
could  nol  heliD  me;  but  he  said  1  ought  not  to  have  come  without 
knowing  something  about  things  before  I  came. 

"That  is  so,"  I  replied;  "but  I  am  quite  prepared  to  pay  for 
my  board,  if  I  can  find  a  boarding  house." 

By  this  time  the  'bus  was  there  again,  and  the  next  crowd 
were  off  to  their  lodgings;  a  few  minutes  more  and  another  'bus 
came,  and  my  only  friend,  Sister  Burley,  was  gone.  It  was  then 
almost  five  o'clock;  the  'bus  came  the  last  time;  the  man  asked 
me  where  I  was  going;  I  told  him  I  did  not  know. 

"This  is  the  last  load,  and  you  had  better  get  in;  I  take  these 
people  to  the  Sumner  House;  when  you  get  there  they  might  be 
able  to  tell  you  where  to  go." 

I  thanked  him,  and  got  in.  When  we  got  there.  I  saw  Mrs. 
Sumner  and  told  her  how  it  was;  she  said  they  were  full,  but  if  I 
would  put  up  with  it  she  would  do  the  best  she  could.  God  bless 
her.  I  thanked  her,  and  thanked  the  Lord.  She  was  so  kind  and 
motherly. 

Now,  all  that  time  no  one  had  paid  the  slightest  attention  to 
me,  any  more  than  if  I  had  not  been  in  the  world;  they  were  all 
strangers  to  me,  and  full  of  excitement;  so  I  was  quite  alone. 

I  would  walk  out  in  the  afternoon  alone,  and  to  and  from 
church  alone.  Several  times  I  got  ready  in  time  and  called  at  the 
parlor  and  asked  if  any  of  the  ladies  were  ready;  "not  yet,"  was 
the  usual  answer;  so  I  would  walk  on.  After  awhile,  in  the  great- 
est style,  would  come  these  ladies  with  the  good  brethren. 

The  early  mornings  and  the  evenings  were  quite  pleasant;  so 
Monday  evening,  about  six  o'clock,  I  thought  I  would  take  a  little 
walk;  and,  without  knowing  it,  I  got  on  the  street  leading  to  the 
Fisk  University.  As  I  walked  on  I  saw  a  lady  coming  toward  me; 
she  began  to  smile;  I  thought,  "  I  ought  to  know  that  face,  but 
who  is  it?"     She  came  up  to  me  and  said: 

"Is  not  this  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith?' 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

"Oh,  how  do  you  do?"  she  said;  "I'm  so  glad  to  see  you. 
We  just  got  home  a  few  days  ago,  and  we  were  talking  about  you 
last  night;  we  were  all  in  the  parlor  having  a  little  sing,  and  we 
were  speaking  of  the  piece  you  sang  with  us  in  Music  Hall, 
Boston." 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "the  Jubilee  Singers."     Just  then  I  recognized 


Amanda  Smith.  .203 

her.  "Why,  am  I  anywhert'  in'ar  Fisk  Uiiivrrsily,  win re  tin; 
Jubilee*  SingtTs  c-ainc  from?" 

"  Yt's,"  sho  said,  "  we  ar.'  just  out  such  a  place;  and  you  must 
come  out  and  see  us.  Professt)r  "White  is  goin<^'  to  invite  the  Con- 
ference out  on  Wednesday,  and  you  must  come." 

This  was  Miss  Ella  Sheiipard,  now  Mrs.  Moore,  wife  of  the 
faithful  pastor  of  Lincoln  Memorial  Church,  AVasliington,  I).  C. 

When  the  time  came  there  was  quite  an  excitement  about  who 
was  going.  Carriages  were  engaged;  I  offered  to  pay  for  a  seat  in 
one,  but  there  was  no  room;  I  sent  out  and  ordered  my  own  car- 
riage, and  paid  for  it  myself. 

While  I  was  getting  ready,  a  certain  brother  took  a  lady  and 
put  her  in  my  carriage;  when  I  went  out  to  get  in,  he  said,  laugh- 
ingly, "  Mrs.  Smith,  Miss  So  and  So  and  I  want  to  go,  and  as  you 
have  room  in  your  carriage,  1  thought  w«'  would  get  in;  "  but 
neither  of  them  offered  to  j)ay  a  cent.  I  had  half  a  mind  not  to 
allow  it;  but  it  was  a  good  chance  to  return  good  for  evil. 

When  we  got  there  the  good  brother,  being  a  minister,  took 
his  lady  and  passed  quite  up  in  front  and  was  seated.  I  took  a 
seat  where  I  could  get  it,  back  in  the  congregation.  One  or  two 
of  the  bishops  were  on  the  platform,  together  with  a  number  of 
ministers,  and  the  fine  choir  of  the  Jubilee  Singers. 

The  meeting  was  opened  in  the  usual  way  —  an  address  by  one 
of  th«'  bishops,  then  a  song  by  the  choir,  singing  as  they  could 
sing.  Miss  Sheppard  spied  me  in  the  audience,  and  told  Prof. 
White.  He  looked  and  looked,  and  could  not  see  me  at  first.  Then 
he  went  and  spoke  to  Miss  Sheppard  again.  Then  she  pointed  out 
the  plain  bonnet.  Then  he  spied  me  and  quickly  came  down  and 
shook  hands,  and  was  so  glad.  They  all  looked  astonished.  Hold- 
ing me  by  the  hand,  he  escorted  me  to  the  platform  and  intro- 
duced me  to  the  large  audience,  who,  in  the  midst  jf  overwhelming 
amazement,  applauded.  Then  the  good  professor  told  how  they 
had  met  me  in  Boston,  and  how  T  sang  the  grand  old  hymn,  "  All 
I  want  is  a  little  more  faith  in  Jesus,"  and  what  a  burst  of  enthu- 
siasm it  created.  And  of  all  the  surprised  and  astonished  men  and 
women  you  ever  saw,  these  men  and  women  were  the  most  so. 

While  he  was  making  these  remarks,  I  prayed  and  askfd  (lod 
to  help  me.  Then  he  said,  "  Tm  going  to  ask  Mrs.  Smith  !•>  sing 
that  same  song  she  sang  at  Boston,  and  the  Jubilee  Singers  .viU 
join  in  the  chorus." 


304  Autobiography  of  Amanda  Smith. 

If  ever  the  Lord  did  help  me,  He  helped  me  that  day.  And 
the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  seemed  to  fall  on  all  the  people.  The 
preachers  got  happy.  They  wept  and  shouted  "  Amen ',  '  "  Praise 
the  Lord!"  At  the  close  a  number  of  them  came  to  me  and  shook 
hands,  and  said,  "God  bless  you,  sister.  Where  did  you  come 
from?  I  would  like  to  have  you  come  on  my  charge."  Another 
would  say,  "Look  here,  sister,  when  are  you  going  home?  God 
bless  you.  I  would  like  to  have  you  come  to  my  place."  And  so 
it  went.  So  that  after  that  many  of  my  brethren  believed  in  me, 
especially  as  the  question  of  ordination  of  women  never  was 
mooted  in  the  Conference. 

But  how  they  have  advanced  since  then.  Most  of  them  believe 
in  the  ordination  of  women,  and  I  believe  some  have  been  ordained. 
But  I  am  satisfied  with  the  ordination  that  the  Lord  has  given  me. 
Praise  His  name! 

I  had  no  trouble  after  I  had  Prof.  White's  and  Prof.  Spence's 
kind  recognition,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  spending  a  week  or 
more  at  the  University  with  those  good  people.  And  as  I  would 
talk  at  several  of  the  meetings,  the  Lord  blessed  the  dear  ttnichers 
and  students  I  also  spent  a  week  at  Dr.  Braden's.  They  were 
very  kind,  and  the  Lord  gave  us  blessing  in  some  meetings.  They 
have  done,  and  are  doing,  a  grand  work  among  my  people.  May 
God  bless  them  all. 

I  give  this  little  story  in  detail,  to  show  that  even  with  my 
own  people,  in  this  country,  I  have  not  always  met  with  the  pleas- 
antest  things.  But  still  I  have  not  backslidden,  nor  felt  led  to 
leave  the  church.  His  grace  has  ever  been  sufficient.  And  all  we 
need  to-day  is  to  trust  Him. 

**  Simply  trusting  every  day. 
Trusting  through  the  stormy  way, 
Even  when  my  faith  is  small, 
Trusting  Jesus,  that  is  all." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

now  I  GOT  TO  KNOXVILLE,  TENN.,  TO  THE  NATIONAL  CAMP  MEETING^ 
AND  WHAT   FOLLOWED. 

It  was  in  September,  1872,  just  after  the  camp  meetin«r  at 
Williamsville.  When  I  went  to  Williamsville  I  had  not  thought 
anything  about  going  to  Knoxville.  But  while  there  a  number  of 
the  friends  thought  I  ought  to  go  to  Knoxville.  Well,  I  hadrft 
prayed  anything  about  it,  so  didn't  know.  I  stayed  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Little,  who  had  charge  of  the  book  store.  There  was  a  Rev. 
Mr.  Ford,  who  was  Presiding  Elder,  or  Pastor,  of  the  Methodist 
Church  at  Knoxville.  He  was  making  the  arrangements  about 
the  camp  meeting,  and  about  Brother  Inskip's  coming  to  Knoxville. 

One  day  I  came  in  and  they  were  talking,  and  Mrs.  Little  said 
to  me,  a  little  while  after,  that  she  was  not  feeling  at  all  pleased 
at  some  things  she  had  heard  them  say,  and  that  she  did  not  care 
to  go.  "But,"  she  said,  "Henry  is  going,  and  1  supi>ose  I  will 
have  to  go. ' ' 

"What  is  it?"  I  said. 

"  Why,"  she  said,  "they  don't  want  you  to  go,  and  say  it  will 
not  do  if  you  go,  at  all." 

"  Why,"  I  said,  "  I  was  not  thinking  about  going.  I  have  not 
asked  the  Lord  anything  about  going,  and  I  do  not  know  as  He 
wants  me  to  go." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  would  like  to  have  you  go,  but  then  it  is 
down  South,  and  they  are  afraid  it  will  hurt  their  meeting  if 
you  go." 

"  I  wo»ild  not  go  for  anything,"  1  said.  "  I  am  .so  anxious  for 
everybody  to  get  the  blessing  of  sancliticalion,  I  don't  want  to  go 
and  hinder  anybody,  not  for  the  world." 

At  dinner  time  I  went  up  to  the  tent  of  tin-  lady  who  had 
Invited  me  to  dinner.     When  I  got  there  I  found  dear  Sister  Inskip 

(305) 


206  AUTOBIOOKAPHY  OF 

and  several  others  talking  over  the  matter.  Sister  Inskip  was  so 
true  and  outspoken.  Some  were  insisting  that  I  should  go,  and 
were  willing  to  pay  my  expenses.  Dear  Sister  InskiiD  turned  to 
me,  and  said,  "It  would  be  very  nice  to  have  Sister  Amanda  go, 
but  we  think  too  much  of  her  to  have  her  go  down  there  and  not 
be  treated  properly,  so  we  hope  she  won't  go." 

Then  I  began  to  think  there  was  more  in  what  Mrs.  Little 
said  than  I  had  at  first  thought.  So  I  said,  "  T  want  everybody  to 
get  blessed,  and  I  don't  want  to  go  unless  the  Lord  wants  me 
to  go." 

So  there  was  not  any  more  said  directly  about  it.  But  some- 
how after  that  1  got  a  very  deep  conviction  that  I  was  to  go.  I 
was  sorry, -for  I  thought,  "Now,  if  I  go  after  what  Sister  Inskip 
has  said,  I  Jim  afraid  they  will  think  I  have  done  it  imperti- 
nently." 

That  night  dear  Brother  Wells  preached.  It  was  on  Saturday 
night.  I  heard  a  little  of  the  sermon.  Up  to  that  time  it  had 
been  pretty  uj)hill  work.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  opposition  on 
the  subject  of  holiness  all  through  that  part  of  Illinois,  that  had 
grown  out  of  some  very  grave  inconsistencies  on  the  part  of  some 
who  had  been  prominent  in  the  profession  and  exposition  of  this 
great  and  blessed  truth. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  earnest  praying  to  be  done.  The 
Lord  helped  Brother  Wells  to  preach,  but  I  got  under  such  dread- 
ful conviction  about  the  way  they  were  feeling  about  my  going  to 
Knoxville,  that  I  left  and  went  down  in  the  woods.  It  was  dark, 
very  dark,  and  I  got  down  by  a  big  log  and  asked  the  Lord  if  He 
would  make  it  clear  to  me  whether  I  was  to  go  to  Knoxville.  If 
He  said  "Go,"  all  right. 

"But,  Lord,  I  want  to  know.  I  don't  want  to  hinder  anybody 
from  getting  the  blessing;  and  if  my  going  will  hinder  anybody,  or 
hinder  this  blessed  work,  I  don't  want  to  go.  Now  make  it  so 
clear  what  Thy  will  is  in  the  matter  that  I  will  not  be  mistaken. 
And  now.  Lord,  I  ask  thee  for  this  evidence.  If  it  is  thy  will  for 
me  to  go,  put  it  into  somebody's  heart  to  get  me  fifty  dollars." 

The  rest  of  the  people,  who  were  invited  to  go  to  help  in  the 
work,  had  their  expenses  provided;  but  the}'  didn't  provide  any 
for  me,  for  the  reason  I  have  already  said.  So  I  thought  I  would 
ask  the  Lord  for  this  great  sum,  for  I  thought  fifty  dollars  was  a 
great  deal  to  ask  for,  and  if  I  would  ask  for  that  much  I  would 


Amanda  Smith.  907 

probabh'  not  got  it;  and  if  T  did  not  pot  it,  of  course  I  would  not 
have  to  j^o.  But  whilo  I  was  praying,  those  words  camo  to  mo; 
"All  tilings  are  possible  to  him  that  believoth."  And  I  said. 
"Lord,  I  boliovo,  if  you  will  give  mo  the  money,  you  want  me  to 
go."     And  I  felt  it  settled. 

.lust  as  I  went  to  get  up  from  my  knees,  a  suggfstioii  like  this 
came: 

"  You  know  the  Kuklu.v  are  down  there,  and  they  might  kill 
you." 

Then  I  knelt  down  again,  and  thought  it  all  over;  and  I  said, 
"Lord,  if  being  a  martyr  for  Thee  would  glorify  Thee,  all  right; 
but  then,  just  to  go  down  there  and  be  butchered  by  wicked  men 
for  Iheirown  gratification,  without  any  reference  to  Thy  glory,  I'm 
not  willing.  And  now,  Lord,  help  mo.  If  Thou  dost  want  me  to 
do  this,  even  then,  give  me  the  grace  and  enable  me  to  do  it." 

Then  these  words  came:  "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee." 
And  I  Siiid,  "  All  right,"  and  got  up. 

I  came  up  to  the  tent  where  I  was  staying,  at  Mrs.  Little's, 
with  perfect  triumph.     I  never  said  a  word  to  her,  or  to  anyone. 

On  Sunday  morning  at  the  eight  o'clock  meeting,  which  was 
always  a  very  grand  meeting,  I  arose,  and  the  Lord  led  me  to 
relate  my  experience;  how  the  Lord  sanctified  my  soul;  and  the 
Holy  Spirit  seemed  to  fall  on  the  people  in  a  very  powerful  manner 
HS  I  related  my  experience.  And  the  Spirit  said  to  one  lady,  "Get 
Amanda  Smith  fifty  dollars  to  go  to  Knoxville." 

This  lady  was  the  wife  of  a  minister,  Rev.  Mr.  Gardner.  She 
had  had  a  wonderful  struggle  for  the  blessing  of  a  clean  heart,  and 
she  told  the  Lord  when  she  was  conijocrating  herself  to  Him,  that 
she  would  do  anything  He  told  her.  So  when  the  Spirit  suggested 
this  to  her,  she  said,  "  I'll  do  it." 

This  she  told  me  afterward.  I  did  not  know  anything  about 
it  at  the  time. 

There  was  a  Mrs.  Reeves,  of  Girard,  O.,  there,  and  her  friend, 
a  Mrs.  Smith,  who  had  como  with  her;  I  had  met  Mrs.  Reeves 
before,  at  Urbana,  O.,  and  so  knew  her,  and  had  been  at  her  home. 
She  said  to  me  on  Sunday  afternoon,  just  after  the  afternoon 
preaching  was  over: 

"Mrs.  Smith  and  I  are  going  down  to  Springfi 'Id  to  see 
Lincoln's  monument  tomorrow  morning;  we  want  to  start  away 
about  eight  o'clock:  wouldn't  rou  like  to  go?" 


208  Autobiography  of 

"Oh,  I  was  delighted,  I  didn't  know  this  was  anywhere  in 
the  region  where  Lincoln's  monument  was.  Of  course  I  was  glad 
of  the  opportunity,  and  went  with  them.  We  were  gone  all  day. 
I  went  up  into  the  top  of  the  monument  and  wrote  on  the  wall, 
"  Rock  of  Ages." 

I  shall  never  forget  that  wonderful  scene  to  me.  I  had  never 
seen  anything  like  it  before  in  my  life. 

After  we  had  visited  round  and  seen  what  we  could,  we  came 
back,  and  got  back  to  the  campground  about  half-past  five  o'clock. 
Brother  and  Sister  Inskip,  with  a  number  of  the  other  brethren 
and  friends,  had  been  invited  to  Mrs,  Blank's  tent  to  tea.  Mrs. 
Little  and  I  had  been  invited  also.  When  I  got  ihere  they  were 
just  through  tea,  and  they  said,  "Oh,  Mrs.  Smith,  we  have  been 
waiting  for  you,  but  we  could  not  wait  any  longer." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad;  I  just  this  minute  got  here." 

Mrs.  Inskip  was  just  going  off  to  take  charge  of  the  Young 
People's  Meeting;  she  said,  "  As  soon  as  you  are  through,  Mrs. 
Smith,  I  want  j'ou  to  come  down  and  help  me  in  the  Young  Peo- 
ple's Meeting." 

I  noticed  that  a  number  of  these  young  people  kept  smiling 
and  laughing,  and  I  could  not  tell  what  was  up. 

So  Mrs.  Inskip  went  on,  and  I  sat  down  to  have  my  tea.  Then 
I  noticed  several  of  the  gentlemen  and  ladies,  and  they  talked  and 
smiled,  and  I  said,  "What  is  up?    You  all  seem  to  be  so  happy." 

"Oh,  well,  Mrs.  Smith,"  they  said,  "never  mind;  when  you  are 
through,  come  Into  the  tent;  we  want  to  see  you  before  you  go  to 
Mrs.  Inskip's  meeting." 

They  had  a  long  table  spread  in  the  rear  of  the  lent,  in  the 
old-fashioned  camp  meeting  style,  loaded  with  good  things. 

Now  I  had  not  breathed  to  a  soul  what  I  had  prayed  about. 
No  one  knew  but  God  the  prayer  I  prayed  in  the  woods  on  Satur- 
day night  before.  When  I  got  through  my  supper  I  went  into  the 
tent;  and  after  a  little  pleasant  passing  of  words,  a  gentleman 
arose  and  said,  "Well,  Sister  Smith,  Sister  Gardner,  and  some 
other  ladies,  have  got  a  little  purse  for  you,  and  they  want  me  to 
present  it  to  you,  for  you  to  go  to  Knoxville;"  then  handing  itover 
to  me,  he  presented  me  with  fifty  dollars  and  fifty-five  cents. 

Well,  there  was  my  money  for  Knoxville.  Mrs.  Gardner  told 
me  she  could  have  got  a  hundred  dollars  just  as  easy  as  she  got 
the  fifty;  but  the  word  of  the  Lord  to  her  was,  "Get  Amanda 
Smith  iafty  dollars  to  go  to  Knoxville." 


Amanda  Smith.  dOd 

I  didn't  go  till  the  meeting  had  been  in  session  about  three 
days.  I  thought  I  would'  give  them  a  chance  to  see  what  the 
results  were  before  I  got  there,  and  what  the  bad  effects  might  be 
after  I  got  there.  But  the  Lord  was  on  my  side,  now  may  Israel 
say,  to  give  mr  a  clear  assurance,  and  to  make  it  plain  to  others, 
that  I  had  not  gone  myself,  but  that  He  had  sent  me. 

It  was  terribly  uphill  during  those  three  days.  Prejudice 
againsi  the  doctrine  was  strong.  There  had  been  some  blessing, 
but  not  what  they  called  a  break.  And  yet  there  were  some  that 
were  a  little  afraid  that  any  little  indication  that  had  been  seen, 
would  be  retarded  by  my  appearance.  So  some  of  the  good  folks 
said,  when  they  heard  that  I  was  on  the  ground,  they  were  very 
sorry,  for  I  must  not  expect  to  be  treated  as  I  was  treated  at 
home;  meaning  the  North;  poor  things! 

I  went  straight  to  Sister  Little's,  for  she  told  me  if  I  did  come, 
to  come  right  to  them;  they  would  have  room  in  their  tent.  They 
generally  had  a  large  tent,  for  it  was  the  book  store,  and  a  kind  of 
general  ofBce.  And  I  had  my  bed-tick,  arid  would  generally  get  it 
filled,  and  then  my  sheet  and  quilt  and  pillows,  I  took  along 
myself;  so"  at  night,  when  the  office  was  closed,  we  put  up  the 
partition,  and  I  made  my  bed  down  on  the  floor,  and  it  was  beau- 
tiful. Then,  I  was  up  always  early  in  the  morning  so  as  to  be  out 
of  the  way  before  the  time  to  open  the  office  and  book  store. 

It  was  Saturday,  about  two  o'clock,  I  think,  when  I  got  there. 
When  the  afternoon  service  was  over,  I  saw  dear  Brother  Grey,  of 
Philadelphia,  standing  talking  very  earnestly  to  a  brother.  I  did 
not  know  who  the  minister  was;  but  they  were  very  close  to 
Brother  Little's  tent,  and  I  saw  that  Brother  Grey  made  several 
attempts  to  get  away,  and  every  way  he  would  start  this  brother 
would  get  in  ahead  of  him  and  hinder  him.  I  knew  Brother  Grey, 
and  knew  he  was  a  good  man,  and  I  fell  sorry  for  him.  At  last  1 
said  to  Sister  Little,  "Who  is  that  man  talking  to  Brother  Grey?" 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "that  is  Rev.  Mr.  So  and  So,"  calling  him  by 
name.  "  He  is  arguing  on  the  subject  of  holiness.  He  is  terribly 
bitter  against  the  doctrine." 

"What,"  I  said,  "and  a  preacher,  too?" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "  and  he  has  had  Brother  Grey  pinned  up 
against  that  tre»'  for  more  than  an  hour.  I  believe  he  is  in  some 
real  estate  business  now,  down  South  here.  He  is  not  in  the  regu- 
lar ministry." 


210  Autobiography  op 

*' Well,"  I  said,  "the  Lord  bless  him.  We  will  have  to  pray 
him  loose." 

I  don't  know  when  he  let  poor  Brother  Grey  off,  but  I  know  it 
was  very  late;  almost  time  for  the  evening  service  to  commence. 

I  do  not  know  who  preached  Saturday  night,  but  my  heart 
was  burdened  in  prayer.  On  Sunday  morning  at  eight  o'clock. 
Brother  Little  was  lead  the  Love  Feast  service.  I  was  very  glad 
Brother  Little  had  charge  of  that  meeting,  as  I  knew  he  would  not 
hinder  me  from  speaking  as  the  Lord  might  lead.  Brother  Tnskip 
preached  at  eleven.  So  the  Lord  laid  it  on  my  heart  very  heavily 
that  1  was  to  relate  my  personal  experience  of  how  the  Lord  led 
me  into  the  blessing  of  entire  sanctification. 

The  brother  that  had  been  talking  and  arguing  so  with  Brother 
Grey  sat  way  back  in  the  congregation.  It  was  in  the  big  tent;  I 
shall  never  forget  it.  There  was  a  side  where  the  colored  people 
all  sat,  specially.  So  I  sat  on  that  side,  quite  near  the  front,  and 
I  kept  looking  to  the  Lord  to  indicate  to  me  when  he  wanted  me 
to  talk.  The  testimonies  and  songs  went  on.  There  was  a  beau- 
tiful spirit  in  the  meeting.  Finally  the  time  came  when  the  Spirit 
bade  me  speak.  I  arose;  a  good  brother  from  Philadelphia,  I  for- 
get his  name,  sat  very  near  me,  and  he  was  watching  this  brother 
that  had  been  such  an  opponent;  so,  as  I  related  how  the  Lord 
had  led  me,  and  my  struggles  and  difficulties,  the  Lord  blessed  me 
and  gave  me  great  liberty  in  speaking.  My!  how  my  soul  tri- 
umphed. The  Spirit  of  God  seemed  to  fall  on  the  people;  it  took 
hold  of  this  brother;  I  suppose  I  talked  about  fifteen  minutes,  and 
when  I  got  through  I  had  not  more  than  taken  my  seat  when  this 
brother  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  holding  up  his  hand  he  said: 

'*  Hold  on,  brethren,  hold  on,  hold  on!  "  and  walked  to  the  front, 
weeping  like  a  child.    Oh!  how  he  wept!    "I  want  to  say  one  word," 

The  shouts  and  amens  and  hallelujahs  were  full  and  free.  The 
brother  turned  round  and  faced  the  congregation,  straightened 
himself  up,  and  braced  himself,  so  as  to  control  his  feelings  till  he 
could  get  a  start.  Finally  he  said,  "Brethren,  I  have  been  a 
Methodist  preacher  for  so  many  years;  I  was  converted  at  such  a 
time;  I  entered  the  ministry,"  etc.  "  I  have  had  a  great  deal  of 
prejudice  against  these  brethren  coming  here,  and  I  have  fought 
this  subject  of  holiness."  And  he  went  on  with  his  confession. 
But  such  a  confession!  And  he  ended  by  saying,  "This  colored 
sister,  who  has  given  us  her  experience,  God  bless  hep."    Then  he 


Amanda  Smith.  211 

Came  over  and  took  hold  of  my  hand  and  said   "Lord  bless  you, 
sister."     Then  he  finished  his  testimony,  as  follows: 

**When  I  heard  this  colored  sister  tell  how  (hkI  had  l.d  lur 
and  brought  her  into  this  blessed  exi)erience,  the  darkness  swept 
away  antl  (Jod  has  saved  me,  and  I  see  the  truth  as  I  never  did 
before.     Glory  to  CJod." 

Oh!  what  a  shout!  Frt)m  that  time  the  tide  r<..sr  and  swe^it 
on.  The  last  night  of  the  meeting  cam.-,  aiul  1  w.is  in  Sister 
Little's  tent.  It  was  eleven  o'clock  at  night.  Sist.r  Little  had 
not  been  very  well,  and  I  was  getting  ready  for  bed;  but  the  cur- 
tain was  down,  and  I  was  sitting  by  Sister  Little's  bed  talking 
with  her  and  rubbing  her  utm.  Brother  Inskip  did  not  know  I 
was  in  the  tent,  and  he  came  in;  and  I  heard  him  say  to  Hroth.-r 
Little,  "We  have  had  a  grand  day;  the  Lord  has  been' with  us; 
and,  after  all,  I  was  mistaken  in  not  wanting  Sister  Smith  to 
come.     I  tell  you.  Brother  Little,  God  sent  her." 

And  Sister  Little  wanted  to  say,  "Amanda  Smith  is  here 
now;  "  but  I  said,  "No,  no,  don't  say  it;  don't  let  him  know  it." 
This  I  heard  with  my  own  ears;  and  I  would  not  let  Sister  Little 
call  Brother  Inskip.  God  bless  him,  for  I  know  he  only  wished 
me  well,  and  his  only  reason  for  thinking  I  should  not  go,  was  for 
my  own  good,  and  that  of  the  meeting  as  well.  But  how  far  God's 
ways  are  above  our  ways,  and  His  thoughts  above  our  thoughts. 
It  is  safe  to  obey  always,  even  though  you  may  not  always  be  able 
to  explain.     Amen.     Amen. 

1  remained  a  few  days  in  town,  and  held  some  meetings  with 
my  own  people,  which  the  Lord  greatly  blessed.  Quite  a  revival 
broke  out,  and  a  number  were  converted.  On  Saturday  afternoon, 
after  the  close  of  the  camp  meeting,  I  was  down  street  doing  a 
little  shopping.  On  my  way  home  I  heard  singing  in  th.-  Presby- 
terian Church,  though  I  didn't  know  it  was  a  Presbyterian  Church, 
then.  The  singing  was  beautiful;  it  sounded  so  much  like  home. 
They  were  singing  that  dear  old  hymn!  "Jesus,  Lover  of  my 
Soul,"  to  the  old  tune.  I  listened,  and  wanted  to  go  in,  but  did 
not  dare  to.  The  church  was  on  the  same  block  with  the  Metho- 
dist Church.  I  said  to  myself,  "If  I  didn't  have  this  parcel  I 
would  go  in." 

Just  opposite,  on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  a  colored  nurse 
girl  was  out  in  the  yard  with  a  little  child.  I  said  to  her.  "  What 
kind  of  a  church  is  that  where  they  are  singing  so? " 


212  Autobiography  op 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  "but  I  think  it  is  a  Presbyterian.* 

"  I  would  go  in  if  I  didn't  have  these  parcels." 

"  I  will  keep  them  for  you,"  she  said;  "  I  will  be  out  here  with 
the  child  for  some  time." 

So  I  handed  her  my  parcels,  and  I  went  into  the  church. 
When  I  went  to  go  in,  there  lay  right  across  the  door  a  large  New- 
foundland dog.  I  stood  for  a  minute,  and  I  thought,  "Well,  he 
must  be  a  pretty  good  sort  of  a  dog  to  be  at  church  on  Saturday 
morning."  I  touched  him  with  my  foot.  He  quietly  lifted  his 
head,  looked  at  me,  and  lay  down  again,  and  I  stepped  over  him 
and  went  in  and  sat  down  on  a  seat  just  behind  the  door.  The 
first  thing  that  struck  me  was  the  face  of  the  minister;  it  was  as 
radiant  as  a  sunbeam.  How  beautiful!  His  name  was  McEwen. 
After  he  had  given  out  some  notices  he  announced  his  text,  Isa. 
35:8:  "  A  highway  shall  be  there,  and  a  way,  and  it  shall  be 
called  the  way  of  holiness,"  etc.  And  he  preached  a  straight, 
clear,  orthodox  holiness  sermon;  and  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  came 
upon  him  and  upon  all  the  people.  He  was  not  demonstrative; 
calm,  but.  Oh,  deep  and  powerful!  The  people  wept  and  sobbed. 
I  wanted  to  shout  "  Glor}^  to  Jesus;"  but  I  said,  "Oh,  Lord,  help 
me,  and  hold  me  still;  "  for  I  knew  they  were  not  used  to  any  such 
thing,  and  it  would  have  embarrassed  the  minister  and  confused, 
if  not  frightened,  the  people;  and  the  only  good  it  would  have 
done,  if  any,  at  that  time,  would  have  been  to  me  only. 

So  the  Lord  turned  the  big  gush  of  praise  into  oil,  and  a  wave 
of  blessing  passed  so  sweetly  over  my  soul.  Oh!  it  was  like  honey 
and  oil  mingled.  It  was  indescribably  beautiful,  and  sweet  and 
heavenly.     I  shall  never  forget  it.     Praise  the  Lord] 

When  the  meeting  closed  the  people  passed  out.  I  heard 
some  ladies  say,  "What  in  the  world  was  the  matter  with  Mr. 
McEwen?     I  never  heard  him  preach  so  before." 

"Oh,  wasn't  that  a  wonderful  sermon?"  said  one.  And  another 
said: 

"  I  think  he  has  been  to  that  holiness  camp  meeting." 

And  so  he  had,  and  had  found  the  pearl  of  greatest  price, 
even  the  blessing  of  a  clean  heart. 

A  lady  came  up  to  me  and  said  so  kindly  (for  they  did  not 
seem  to  be  surprised  to  see  me),  "You  are  Amanda  Smith?" 

"Yes." 

"I  saw  you  at  the  camp  meeting  the  other  day.  Our  min- 
ister has  got  the  blessing." 


Amanda  Smith.  218" 

**  Yes/*  I  said,  •'  I  know  the  ring." 

*' Wt'  have  been  praying  for  liim  for  five  years.  He's  such  a 
beautiful  spirit,  you  would  enjoy  meeting  liim." 

So  siie  appointed  an  afternoon,  and  1  went  to  her  house,  and 
what  a  blessed  afternoon  I  spent  in  her  parlor,  and  that  at  Knox- 
vilk',  Tenn.  1  sang  for  tiiem,  and  prayed,  and  told  them  how  the 
Lord  led  me  into  the  blessed  soul  rest  after  years  of  wandering. 
And  I  believe  he  Lord  made  it  a  farther  blessing  to  this  dear 
minister. 

So  Mrs.  McEwen,  the  lady  who  had  invited  me  to  her  house, 
(for  that  was  her  name,  though  siie  and  the  ministt-r  were  no  rela- 
tion to  each  other),  and  who  was  a  beautiful  C^hristian  lady,  told 
me  that  she  had  got  the  blessed  experience  of  full  salvation  .some 
years  before,  reading  Mrs.  Phebe  Palmer's  book,  "The  Way  of 
Faith;"  and  for  years  she  had  taken  "The  Guide  to  .Holiness." 
She  said  there  was  not  one  in  their  church,  when  she  sought  and 
found  the  blessing;  but  that  there  were  two  other  ladies,  friends 
of  hers,  and  members  of  the  same  church,  who,  like  herself, 
longed  for  a  deeper  experience,  and  their  custom  was  to  meet 
once  a  week,  and  pray  for  the  minister,  and  pray  for  themselves. 

One  day  she  went  alone  into  her  garret,  so  as  to  be  away  from 
every  one,  and  there,  as  she  knelt  and  prayed,  the  Lord  seemed  to 
open  the  windows  of  Heaven  to  her  soul,  and  she  was  flooded  with 
light  and  peace.  She  said:  "  I  was  so  filled,  I  praised  the  Lord 
at  the  top  of  my  voice.  I  came  down  and  put  on  my  things  and 
went  to  see  my  dear  Mrs.  Blank.  She  was  delighted;  and  we  had 
a  good  time  rejoicing  together.  A  few  days  later  she  came  out 
clear.  Then  the  other.  Now,  we  must  still  pray  more  earnestly 
for  our  minister,  that  he  may  see  the  truth  and  get  the  blessing." 
She  said  he  was  such  a  good  man,  and  everyone  liked  him;  but 
still  there  was  a  lack  of  real  unction  in  his  preaching.  But  she 
said  all  these  years  they  never  breathed  it  to  him  that  they  were 
praying  for  him.  She  had  told  him  about  the  "Guide,"  and 
given  him  a  copy  several  times  when  he  made  his  pastoral  call, 
but  every  week  for  five  long  years  these  ladies  met  and  prayed  for 
their  minister,  and  kept  quiet,  and  now  the  answer  had  come. 
Oh,  how  full  of  delight  and  joy  they  were! 

I  think  there  might  be  similar  results  if  there  were  more  pray- 
ing in  the  closet  for  the  preacher.  Don't  talk  much,  but  united, 
pray. 


214  Autobiography  of  Amanda  Smith. 

"  Pray,  if  thou  canst  or  canst  not  speak, 
But  pray  with  faith  in  Jesus'  name." 

She  said  about  a  year  or  two  after  she  had  got  the  experience 
her  husband  failed  in  business,  and  they  lost  nearly  everything 
they  had.  But  she  said  "  The  Lord  kept  me  so  quiet  in  my  soul; 
and  I  believe  but  for  this  grace  I  never  could  have  gone  through 
what  I  did."  She  said  her  husband  could  not  understand  it,  and 
sometimes  he  would  feel  vexed  with  her  because  she  did  not 
worry.  "He  said  I  seemed  as  though  I  did  not  care.  But  Oh, 
how  I  had  to  hold  on  to  God  for  him.  It  seemed  he  would  lose  his 
mind  at  times.  Praise  the  Lord,  He  kept  me.  Oh,  Sister  Smith, 
what  deep  waters  God  brought  me  through.  How  true  His 
Word." 

"Many  shall  be  purified, 

And  made  white  and  tried; 

But  the  hand  that  purifies, 
Tries." 

So  we  are  quite  safe.     Only  hold  still.     Amen. 


rnAPTER    XVIT. 

SEA  CLIFF  CAMP  MEETIN(;,  .H  LY.  1872 — FIRST  THOUOnTS  OF  AFRICA 
—  MAZIES  EDUCATION  AND  MARRIAGE  —  MY  EXPERIENCE  AT 
YARMOUTH. 

Persons  often  ask  me  how  I  came  to  think  of  j^'oin^r  to  Africa. 
While  at  this  camp  meeting'  I  had  my  home  at  Mrs.  Battershell's. 
Their  beautiful  cottaf?e  was  the  finest  and  larp'St  there  at  that 
time.  Mrs.  Battershell  was  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  Inskip's.  She  had 
told  me  when  I  came  to  Sea  ClilTshe  wanted  the  privilege  of  enter- 
taining me  at  her  new  cottage,  so  I  had  a  very  pretty  little  room 
all  to  myself,  and  went  in  and  out  as  I  chose. 

One  day  during  the  camp  meeting  they  had  a  mission  day, 
and  as  there  were  different  speakers,  some  from  India,  some  from 
China,  some  from  Japan,  and  some  from  South  America,  I  think, 
I  went  to  the  meeting.  I  heard  all  the  speakers,  and  was  very 
much  interested  in  the  meeting. 

Just  as  they  were  about  to  close  the  meeting  there  came  up  a 
little  shower  of  rain,  and  as  I  had  no  umbrella,  I  hurried  cut  and 
on  to  my  cottage.     The  meeting  had  made  an  impression  on  my 
mind,  and  as  I  walked  along  I  kept  thinking  of  what  I  had  heard, 
and  all  at  once  it  came  to  me  th*at  I  had  not  heard  them  say  anything 
about  Africa.     Then  I  remembered  when  I  was  quite  young  I  had 
heard  my  father  and  mother  talk  about  Africa.     I  remembered 
too.  that  I  used  to  see  a  large  paper,  away  back  in  the  forties 
called    ''The  Brother  Jonathan   Almanac,"    something  like  thi 
Frank  Leslie,     It  had  large  pictures,  and  Africans  in  their  cos 
tumes  and  huts,  and  Indians  in  their  wigwams,  great  boa  con 
strictors.  bears,  lions  and  panthers;  and  some  of  the  pictun-s  wer» 
horrid,  as  I  remember  them  now. 

Well,  all  the  old  farmers  round  about  where  we  lived  u.s»'d  to 
take  those  papers,  and  one*'  in  awhile  father  would  bring  home 
one  of  Iht-m  for  us  children  to  look  at,  and  my  good  mother  would 

(315) 


316  Autobiography  of 

always  see  that  it  was  not  torn  to  pieces.  So  we  had  it  to  look  at 
for  a  time,  then  she  would  carefully  fold  it  up  and  put  it  away.  I 
remembe  •  what  a  treat  it  was  when  she  would  say  we  could  have 
it  to  look  at  again.  We  would  spread  it  on  the  floor,  and  then  all 
of  us  children  would  get  down,  and  what  times  we  would  have 
over  "Brother  Jonathan." 

So  as  I  was  walking  along  now,  thinking  of  this  missionary 
meeting,  I  heard  some  one  call  out,  "Amanda  Smith,"  and  I 
turned,  and  a  lady  overtook  me  and  said  as  she  came  up  to  me; 
"Well,  Amanda  Smith,  how  did  you  like  the  meeting?" 
"  It  was  very  nice,  and  I  liked  it.  But  I  did  not  hear  them 
say  a  word  about  Africa,  and  I  have  been  wondering  if  all  the 
people  in  Africa  are  converted.  I  remember  hearing  father  and 
mother  talk  about  them  a  long  time  ago,  but  I  have  not  heard  any- 
thing of  them  since,  and  I  was  wondering." 

She  smiled,  and  said,  "Oh!  I  would  to  God  they  were.  Have 
you  never  heard  of  Melville  B.  Cox,  our  first  missionary  of  the  M. 
E.  Church  to  Africa?" 

"No,"  I  said,  "what  about  him?" 

Then  she  gave  me  the  history  as  we  went  on  together.  As  she 
told  mo  the  story,  and  then  said  what  his  last  words  were  when  he 
died  at  Monrovia,  Africa,— "  Though  a  thousand  fall,  let  not 
Africa  be  given  up,"— Oh!  what  a  deep  impression  it  made  on  my 
mind  and  heart. 

When  we  got  to  the  corner  she  turned  and  went  to  her  cottage. 
I  went  into  Mrs.  Battershell's  and  went  straight  up  to  my  own 
room,  locked  the  door,  and  got  on  my  knees.  What  a  time  of  con- 
secration, what  a  struggle  I  had!  I  said,  "  Lord,  Africa's  need  is 
great,  and  I  cannot  go,  though  I  would  like  to.  But  Thou  know- 
est  I  have  no  education,  and  I  do  not  understand  the  geography, 
so  I  would  not  know  how  to  travel." 

For  I  thought  that  the  next  great  qualification  for  African 
work,  next  to  a  full  consecration  and  sanctification,  which  I  knew 
T  had,  was  to  understand  the  geography,  so  as  to  know  how  to 
travel  in  Africa.  Of  course  T  was  ignorant  and  green,  and  the 
Lord  knew  that,  and  had  patience  with  me.  So  I  said,  "  Lord,  I 
am  too  old  to  learn  now,  but  if  you  will  help  me  I  will  educate  my 
daughter,  Mazie,  and  she  can  go." 

Then  it  came  to  me,  would  I  be  willing  to  have  her  go?  Oh, 
what  a  struggle  1 


Amanda  Smith.  217 

I  seemed  to  sec  a  gvanl  lit-athen  town.  There  wero  the  great 
boa-constrictors,  and  there  the  great  lions  and  panthrrs,  and  there 
was  my  ix)or  child.  Oh!  how  I  wept.  Hut  I  said,  "  Lord,  some- 
body must  go  to  Africa,  and  I  am  too  old  to  learn,  so  I  cannot  go. 
Hut  I  can.  I  will,  I  do,  consecrat*'  my  child  to  Thoe  for  Africa. 
My  heart  aches,  but.  Lord,  help  me.  I  give  her  to  Thee.  She  is 
Thine,  and  Thou  canst  take  care  of  her." 

I  suppose  I  was  there  for  an  hour  or  two,  but  I  never  left  my 
knees  till  I  felt  I  had  given  her  fully  to  God  for  Africa. 

"Now,  Lord,."  I  said,  "open  the  way  for  me  to  get  her  edu- 
cated, so  that  she  will  not  have  the  difficulty  that  1  have  if  you 
want  her  to  go.  Lord,  I  don't  want  her  to  read  books  and  get 
worked  up  in  that  way,  but  help  me  to  educate  her,  and  then  sanc- 
tify her  wholly  and  send  her  whither  Thou  wilt." 

When  I  arose  from  my  knees,  my  heart  was  calm  and  restful. 
And  now  my  thought  was  to  get  her  educated.  I  prayed,  and 
watched  every  indication. 

Several  days  later  I  chanced  to  meet  that  good  man,  Dr.  Ward, 
and  during  our  conversation  I  began  telling  him  my  e.xperience, 
and  how  I  was  looking  to  the  Lord  about  my  daughter's  education, 
and  asked  him  where  would  be  a  good  school  for  her. 

"Oh!  "  said  he,  "  I  wish  I  had  known  this  yesterday.  I  have 
just  given  away  a  scholarship  to  some  one  (calling  the  name),  and 
if  I  had  known  of  your  wish  I  would  have  been  so  glad  to  give  it 
to  you." 

Well,  it  seemed  that  all  was  lost.  But  still  I  hoped.  This  was 
the  first  of  my  thinking  of  going  to  Africa. 

I  had  worked  so  hard,  and  helped  Mazie.  She  had  been  at 
Oberlin  for  a  year,  and  at  Xenia,  and  got  on  very  nicely.  Hut  I 
could  not  keep  up  the  expense.  But  at  that  time  I  was  only  think- 
ing to  fit  her  for  a  teacher,  and  selfishly  had  planned  in  my  mind 
that  if  I  could  help  it  she  should  not  have  to  slave  and  work  hard 
day  and  night  as  I  had  done.  So  I  thought  when  I  got  old  she 
would  be  in  a  position  to  help  herself  and  me,  and  I  could  keep  the 
home  and  look  after  everything  while  she  was  away  teaching,  and 
we  coujd  be  so  happy  together,  .so  that  my  last  days  would  be 
happy. 

But,  alas!  how  disappointed  I  have  been,  even  in  the  shadow 
of  such  a  hope.  Every  wish  in  that  direction  has  been  swept 
away,  and  I  have  had  to  surrender  that  cherished  hope.    I  thought 


218  Autobiography  op 

I  could  not  boar  it.  Oh!  how  I  had  to  cry  to  God  for  enduring 
grace.  And  He  has  given  it,  and  I  am  wonderfully  upheld  by  His 
almighty  hand.  His  grace  is  sufficient,  even  when  we  are  disap- 
pointed in  our  brightest  hopes. 

She  is  married  and  settled  in  her  own  home,  and  I  am  where 
I  was  when  I  first  started,  so  far  as  that  is  concerned.  And  now 
my  prayer  before  the  Lord  is,  that  He  will  save  her  soul  in  His 
own  way.  While  her  name  is  on  the  church  record,  yet  like  so 
many  dear  souls,  I  fear  she  has  but  little  spiritual  life! 

•Time  went  on,  and  I  saw  no  way  to  get  my  daughter  educated 
for  Africa. 

One  summer  we  were  at  Ocean  Grove  with  Mrs.  Sanders.  She 
had  bought  some  lots,  and  they  had  a  fine  cottage  right  on  the 
lake.  So  she  invited  me  and  Mazie  to  come  down  and  spend  the 
summer  for  the  camp  meeting.  They  had  put  up  a  large  tent, 
which  Mazie  and  I  occupied,  on  one  of  these  vacant  lots,  beauti- 
fully situated,  near  the  lake.  Thej-^  had  a  great  deal  of  company, 
so  Mazie  and  I  used  to  go  in,  and  wait  on  the  table,  and  help  with 
the  work. 

One  morning  I  was  busy  helping  in  the  kitchen  before  I  went 
to  the  meeting;  Mazie  had  been  waiting  on  the  table  in  the  dining 
room;  and  Mrs.  Sanders  said  to  me: 

"Amanda  Smith,  come  into  the  parlor;  I  want  to  speak  to 
you." 

I  did  so,  and  she  said,  "  I  see  that  Mazie  is  just  as  smart  as  a 
steel  trap;  now,  why  don't  you  get  her  into  school?  " 

Then  I  told  her  my  story,  how  I  had  been  praying,  and  how 
I  had  been  watching  and  waiting  for  the  Lord  to  open  some  way. 
I  told  her  I  had  done  the  best  I  could,  and  the  expenses  were  so 
heavy  I  found  I  could  not  keep  Mazie  in  school.  I  had  done  what 
I  could  for  her  for  two  years,  so  I  thought  she  would  have  to  do 
the  next  herself;  I  had  given  it  up.  But  as  she  talked  on  I  seemed 
to  see  this  was  the  way  the  Lord  was  to  answer  my  prayer. 

It  was  just  as  the  camp  meeting  was  closing,  so  Mrs.  Sanders 
said: 

"Now,  if  you  find  a  place  for  her  to  go  to  school,  1  will  help 
you  to  get  all  her  outfit,  and  send  her,  if  you  can  do  the  other." 

I  thanked  hrr,  and  told  her  I  would  do  what  I  could.  I  had 
heard  of  a  good  school  in  Baltimore,  and  as  my  aunt  lived  there  I 
wrote  and  asked  her  about  it;  she  kindly  replied,  and  spoke  highly 


Amanda  Smith.  219 

of  tho  school;  so  that  what  she  said  confirmed  what  I  had  hoard 
before;  and  then  she  was  where  she  could  look  after  my  child;  so 
this  decided  me. 

The  next  week  Mrs.  Sanders  went  to  Xew  York  and  bou<,'ht 
all  her  outfit,  everythin'c,  and  I  went  to  work  and  got  her  ready, 
and  I  think  it  was  about  the  third  week  in  September  we  were  off 
to  Baltimore.  She  was  at  that  school  a  yej.r.  Strange  to  say, 
just  before  the  close  of  the  year  I  got  a  letter  from  the  matron,' 
and  she  said  Mazie  was  very  smart;  she  was  getting  along  nicely.' 
If  I  could  only  just  leave  her  for  one  year  longer  it  would  be  th«' 
making  of  her.  It  was  a  pity  to  takf  her  just  now.  And  I  won- 
dered if  I  could  stand  it  another  year. 

I  went  to  the  Lord  and  prayed,  and  asked  Him  to  help  me  and 
strengthen  me,  and  to  open  the  way  for  me  to  get  the  means  to 
keep  her  just  another  year. 

About  two  or  three  weeks  after  I  had  decided  to  let  h<'r 
remain  another  year,  the  Lord  seemed  to  open  my  way  clearly  to 
go  to  England.  I  only  expected  to  stay  three  months,  and  I 
thought  how  nice  it  would  be,  while  she  was  in  school,  and  was 
not  losing  any  time,  and  would  be  well  cared  for,  and  under  good 
discipline  and  control,  and  then  my  aunt  could  look  after  her. 

Ev«Tything  seemed  to  be  favorable.  So  in  July,  1878,  after  I 
had  gone  to  Baltimore  and  spent  a  week  with  her,  I  left  her,  and 
went  to  England.  Instead  of  getting  back  in  three  months,  ;is  I 
had  thought  and  planned,  I  was  away  for  ov«'r  twelve  years. 

Aft«'r  I  had  been  in  England  about  three  months,  the  Lord 
made  it  very  clear  to  me  that  I  was  to  remain  longer;  so  I  thought 
three  months  longer;  but  when  six  months  had  passed,  my  way 
seemed  to  be  shut  up  to  come  home,  but  open  to  remain.  Now, 
people  say,  "  But  how  was  that?  "  That  is  just  what  I  say;  for  I 
do  not  understand  it  yet,  and  could  not  explain  it;  but  I  am  just 
as  sure  that  God  was  in  it,  as  I  am  of  my  own  existence.  It  is  one 
of  God's  inexplicable  dealings.  I  wrote  and  sent  money  home  to 
my  daughter,  and  had  made  all  arrangements  for  her  for  two  years. 
Then  she  wrote  and  told  me  she  thought  I  had  paid  money 
enough  for  her.  and  that  she  wanted  to  come  out  of  school,  and 
had  an  opportunity  for  a  situation  as  teacher;  so  I  agreed  to  that. 
I  knew  she  was  clever  enough,  and  quite  able  to  do  this,  if  she 
cho.se.  A  little  while  l;jt«ron  she  wrot*-  me  that  a  young  man  had 
proposed  marriage  to  her.     I  told  her  1  had  rather  she  would  not 


330  Autobiography  of 

marry.  She  had  quite  time  enough,  and  it  would  be  so  much 
better  for  her  to  come  to  England  and  spend  at  least  a  year  or  two 
first. 

I  saw  that  her  teaching  plan  was  pretty  well  upset  when  she 
got  the  marrying  spirit;  and  she  was  like  many  other  young  people; 
they  cannot  hear  reason  or  anything  when  they  take  a  notion  to 
get  married.  If  I  had  been  at  home,  I  think  I  should  have  for- 
bidden it;  but  being  away,  I  thought  if  anything  should  happen 
I  would  always  blame  myself.  But  I  urged  her  to  come  to  England 
and  wait  a  while;  then  she  wrote  me  she  had  decided  to  do  so. 
Many  of  my  friends  in  England,  who  had  been  interested  in 
her,  were  delighted.  They  had  written  to  her,  and  she  was  all 
for  coming  to  England.  So  I  got  the  money  all  ready  and  was  just 
about  to  send  it  for  her  to  come.  All  the  arrangements  were  made. 
But  I  thought  to  myself,  "  I  will  wait  for  a  letter  from  Mazie  before 
I  send  it."  And  when  the  letter  came  she  wrote  me  very  frankly 
that  the  young  man  had  persuaded  her  to  wait  till  after  she  was 
married,  and  then  come  to  England. 

"No,"  I  said,  "if  you  come  to  England  married  you  won't 
belong  to  me;  you  will  belong  to  some  one  else;  and  if  you  can 
risk  losing  the  opportunity  that  not  many  colored  girls  have  had, 
and  that  you  will  not  have  again,  and  think  more  of  the  man,  and 
take  him  in  preference  after  all  I  have  said,  I  guess  the  safest  plan 
is  that  you  remain. "  And  I  think  so  yet.  But  she  could  not  have 
got  a  kinder  husband,  or  one  that  did  a  better  part  by  her,  if  I 
had  been  living  right  here  with  her.  It  is  wonderful  how  the 
Lord  provided  in  that. 

In  answer  to  prayer,  the  Lord  opened  my  way  to  attend  Yar- 
mouth Cam.p  Meeting.  There  I  heard  for  the  first  time  of  the 
landing  of  the  Pilgrims  on  Plymouth  Rock.  It  seemed  the  Lord 
had  appointed  that  grove  especially  for  a  camp  meeting  grove. 
There  I  first  saw  the  famous  Hutchinson  family.  Mr.  Asa  Hutch- 
inson, his  wife,  two  sons,  and  a  daughter,  Miss  Abbie,  how  well  I 
remember  them;  their  noble,  kind-heartedness.  They  had  me 
sing  with  them  several  times.  Although  all  have  passed  away, 
the  precious  memory  of  them  still  remains. 

Through  the  kindness  of  Rev.  B.  F.  Pomeroy,  of  the  Troy 
Conference,  I  had  my  quarters  during  the  camp  meeting  in  one 
of  his  little  tents.  I  shall  never  forget  how  kind  he  and  his  dear 
wife  were  to  me.     He  used  often  to  sit  down  and  tell  me  wonder- 


Amanda  Smith.  231 

ful  things  about  God's  dealings  with  liim,  which  ofton  strcnj^th- 
encd  my  faith,  and  h»'lpod  me.  Praise  thf  Lord!  Many  lights 
there  are  along  the  shore  that  never  grow  dim. 

I  had  been  asked  by  the  pastor  of  the  Methodist  Church,  at 
Martha's  Vineyard,  to  go  to  Martha's  Vineyard  Camp  Meeting. 
He  said  he  believed  God  would  have  me  go,  and  that  they  had  a 
society  tent  that  they  would  put  up  on  the  camp  ground,  "and," 
said  he,  "you  can  stay  with  us  and  we  will  look  after  you." 

This  was  on  Wednesday.  He  said  he  must  leave  on  Friday, 
but  I  could  come  with  his  wife  and  children.  So  I  told  Brother 
Pomeroy  about  it.  He  seemed  to  think  it  was  not  just  the  thing 
for  me  to  go.  He  said  that  years  ago  that  used  to  be  the  great 
place,  the  power  of  the  Lord  used  to  come  on  that  camp  ground 
in  the  old-fashioned  way.  "  They  have  but  very  little  of  the 
Spirit  now-a-days.  They  go  more  as  a  picnic,  not  the  Holy  Ghost 
times  of  the  past." 

Well,  he  was  always  so  good  in  his  counsel  that  T  thought  it 
was  the  thing,  of  course,  not  to  go;  still,  I  thought  that  if  they 
were  so  orderly  and  lifeless  the  more  need  there  was  for  me  to  go, 
I  might  help  a  little. 

At  the  close  of  the  morning  service  at  the  stand  that  day  the 
Presiding  Elder  called  out  to  all  the  tent  holders  within  the  circle 
to  close  the  front  of  their  tent,  and  there  was  to  be  no  walking 
inside  the  circle  from  half-past  twelve  till  two,  when  the  afternoon 
service  would  commence. 

During  this  interval  I  look  my  Bible  and  went  into  the  woods 
about  a  half  milf"  away,  all  alone,  to  ask  God  about  going  to 
Martha's  Vineyard,  and  there,  as  I  prayed  and  told  the  Lord  how 
I  had  been  asked  to  go,  that  Brother  P.  was  a  good  man,  and  he 
said  he  thought  I  had  better  not  go,  and  I  wanted  He  should  show 
me  His  will. 

"  Lord,"  I  said.  "  if  Thou  dost  want  me  to  take  any  message 
I  will  do  it  for  Thee." 

So  it  was  whispered  to  me  to  read,  and  1  opened  my  Bible  to 
see  what  the  Lord  would  give  me.  Mai.  14,  1st  verse:  "And  the 
Lord  said  go  speak  as  I  command  you."  I  was  afraid  and  said, 
"  O,  Lord,  I  am  a  strangt'r  and  a  color'-il  woman,  and  the  people 
are  proud  and  wicked,  as  has  been  told  me,"  and  I  wept  and  trem- 
bled, but  he  said,  "  Go,  do  as  I  ccrmmand  you. " 

I  arose  from  my  knees  and  went  back  to  the  tent,  but  I  did 


323  Autobiography  op 

not  dare  to  toll  Brothor  P.  what  I  had  done.  So  the  last  day  came, 
and  when  Brother  P.  began  to  take  down  their  tent  thoy  wanted 
me  to  go  with  them  to  another  camp  meeting,  but  I  said,  "No, 
the  Lord  bids  me  go  to  Martha's  Vineyard."  They  said  they 
thought  I  was  mistaken.     But  I  said  nothing. 

I  prayed  for  the  Lord  to  give  me  means.  I  would  take  it  as  an 
indication  that  I  was  to  go.  The  next  morning  I  went  into  Father 
Snow's  tent.  We  had  a  wonderful  meeting.  After  the  regular 
meeting  was  closed,  several  people  asked  me  to  sing,  and  a  crowd 
gathered  around.  Some  were  standing  on  the  benches.  Someone 
dropped  a  two  dollar  note  in  my  lap;  that  was  my  first  token  for 
the  money,  and  I  looked  up  and  praised  the  Lord.  Then  there 
came  a  one  dollar  bill,  then  another,  and  so  on  till  I  had  seven 
dollars.     Just  then  a  strange  lady  turned  to  me  and  said: 

"  Have  you  ever  been  to  Martha's  Vineyard?" 

'*No." 

•*  I  believe  the  Lord  wants  you  there,  and  if  you  will  go  I  will 
give  you  a  good  place  to  sleep." 

This  lady's  name  was  Mrs.  Jenkins.  She  said  her  daughter 
was  on  from  Baltimore,  and  had  taken  a  cottage  for  the  summer; 
that  she  had  such  a  nice  colored  woman  who  was  nurse  for  her. 
Then  she  wrote  her  name  and  address  on  a  card  and  said,  "  I  leave 
to-day  and  want  you  to  come  to  our  cottage,  if  you  come."  I 
thanked  her  and  said,  "  All  right,  madam."   When  the  day  came 

I  started  off  with  Mrs. and  the  children  and  servant.     The 

Lord  seemed  to  have  ordered  everything. 

Going  up  on  the  boat  I  went  to  pay  my  fare,  and  some  one 
said,  "  Your  fare  has  been  paid." 

"  Praise  the  Lord,"  but  I  said  I  did  not  know  the  parties,  so 
that  I  could  thank  them.  So  several  of  us  sat  down  to  dinner; 
when  I  went  to  pay  they  said,  *'  Your  bill  is  settled,"  and  so  there 
was  another,  "praise  the  Lord!  "  I  could  see  so  far  very  clearly 
the  hand  of  the  Lord  in  it. 

When  we  reached  the  camp  ground,  Martha's  Vineyard,  it 
was  found  that  the  society  tent  that  the  pastor  had  told  me  about 
had  been  exchanged  and  another  sent  in  its  place,  and  after  all  we 
did  not  have  any  tent,  so  what  should  we  do.  I  said  to  the  pastor's 
wife,  "What  shall  I  do?" 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said,  "what  we  shall  do  now,  we  will 
have  to  see  about  sending  it  back  and  getting  our  own." 


Amanda  Smith.  223 

"Well,"  1  said,  "I  will  go  up  lo  Mrs.  Jenkins,  who  gave  me 
Ikt  address,"  and,  sure  enough,  it  seemed  to  be  just  tlu-  plact-,  so 
that  '*  In  some  way  or  other  the  Lord  does  provide." 

Now  it  cami*  Sunday.  O,  how  the  Lord  suppli.-d  my  n.-.-ds, 
one  dollar,  two  dollars  at  a  time.  I  kept  watching  for  the  lim.-  to 
deliver  my  message. 

In  the  afternoon  I  went  into  a  large  tent  where  they  were  hold- 
ing meetings  before  the  approaching  service.  I  sat  down  quietly, 
and  they  sang  and  prayed.  1  do  not  remember  the  minister's  name 
who  was  leading  tlie  meeting.  Just  before  the  close  he  called  upon 
me  to  sing.  I  arose  to  sing,  but  the  Lord  said,  "  Deliver  the  mes- 
sage first;  "  so  I  quoted  the  pasi5age  of  Scrii)ture,  Mai.  4th  chapter, 
1st  verse:  "Behold  the  day  Cometh  that  shall  burn  as  an 
oven,  etc." 

There  was  a  great  crowd  around  as  well  as  inside  the  tent,  and 
as  I  lifted  my  hand  and  pointed  my  finger  towards  the  door, 
repeating  the  text  that  was  given  me,  the  people  looked  astounded. 
Then  I  sang,  "All  I  want  is  a  little  more  faith  in  Jesus."  The 
Lord  put  His  seal  on  this  message,  also  on  the  song. 

A  lady  from  Providence,  R.  I.,  was  in  this  tent  meeting.  She 
had  come  with  a  very  definite  object,  to  seek  the  blessing  of  a 
clean  heart.  She  was  called  a  swell  lady;  she  was  one  of  the  ones 
rather  up,  and  did  not  condescend  to  things  of  low  estate!  So  as  I 
began  to  sing,  "AH  I  want  is  a  little  more  faith  in  Jesus,"  she 
walked  out  of  the  tent  and  said  to  herself,  as  she  passed  out,  "  I 
came  here  to  seek  the  blessing  of  a  clean  heart,  I  did  not  come  to 
liear  a  negro  ditty,"  and  the  blessed  Holy  Spirit  said  to  her,  "Is  not 
that  your  need,  'a  little  more  faith  in  Jesus?'  " 

Then  her  eyes  were  opened,  and  she  said,  "  O,  Lord,  I  see." 
Then  she  went  into  her  tent  and  there  prayed,  and  the  Lord  sent 
the  baptism  and  gave  her  the  desire  of  her  heart. 

Some  time  after  this,  when  Brothers  Inskip  and  McDonald 
were  holding  their  meeting  at  Providence,  R.  I.,  one  morning  I 
went  into  the  meeting  about  one  o'clock,  (testimony  meeting)  I 
didn't  know  of  this  lady's  struggle  at  the  time,  but  just  as  I  got 
into  the  door,  I  heard  this  lady  say,  "  Amanda  Smith."  Her  back 
was  to  me.  I  sat  down  quietly  to  listen  to  her  testimony.  She 
went  on  and  gave  it  in  the  words  above. 

Now  about  the  message.  About  four  months  after  this  camp 
meeting  closed,  I  was  holding  m.-etings  in  one  of  liic   Methodist 


224  Autobiography  of  Amanda  Smith. 

churches  in  Worcester,  Mass.,  and  a  gentleman  who  was  Superin- 
tendent of  a  large  Sabbath  School,  (a  Mr.  C.)  said  to  me  one  day, 
"  Amanda  Smith,  do  you  remember  being  at  Martha's  Vineyard  at 
such  a  time?" 
"Yes,"  I  said. 

•*  Do  you  remember  the  Sunday  in  the  tent  when  you  got  up 
and  quoted  that  passage  from  Malachi  and  sang?" 
"Yes." 

"Well,"  said  he,  "the  Lord  sent  that  message  to  me.'* 
Mr.  C.  was  head  clerk  in  one  of  the  largest  dry  goods  stores  in 
Worcester,  and  at  the  same  time  was  Superintendent  of  a  large 
Sabbath  School,  and  he  worked  very  hard,  and  was  very  tired, 
and  he  had  gone  to  this  camp  meeting  for  his  vacation,  and  he 
and  his  young  people  all  went  out  there  for  a  vacation  more  than 
for  the  purpose  of  attending  the  meeting.  They  would  go  to 
preaching  in  the  morning,  but  would  not  attend  any  of  the  social 
meetings.  In  the  afternoon  they  would  generally  go  off  for  a  game 
of  croquet,  or  on  the  lake,  boating. 

When  they  heard  the  singing  in  this  tent  a  whole  party  of 
them  were  just  on  their  way  to  the  croquet  ground.  They  stopped 
at  the  tent  door  to  see  the  colored  woman,  and  to  hear  what  she  had 
to  say.  He  just  got  there  as  I  repeated  the  text  and  he  said  it  came 
to  his  heart  like  an  arrow.  He  went  back  to  his  tent  and  began 
to  pray,  and  he  said  the  Lord  showed  him  how  near  backsliding 
he  was,  how  far  away,  so  that  he  was  really  alarmed,  and  that 
text  saved  him  through  God's  mercy. 

I  praised  the  Lord  that  he  enabled  me  to  obey  him.  It  was 
not  a  little  thing,  it  was  a  trial,  but  see  the  blessing  that  came  out 
of  it  to  this  brother.  I  then  praised  the  Lord  that  the  message 
was  heard  by  the  one,  and  the  song  by  the  other.     It  pays  to  obey. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

PITTMAN  CHURCH,  PHFLADELPHIA  —  HOW  I  BECAME  THE  OWNER  OF 
A  HOUSE,  AND  WHAT  BECAME  OP  IT  —  THE  MAYFLOWER  MIS- 
SION, BROOKLYN — AT  DR.  CUYLER'S. 

It  was  iu  '78.  I  was  holding  meeting,  first  at  Manayunk, 
Brotlier  Rakestraw's;  then  at  Holmesburg,  Brother  Gillingham's; 
then  at  Camden,  then  at  Norristown,  Brotlier  Day's.  We  had  a 
good  work  at  all  these  places.  Many  souls  were  saved  and  believ- 
ers built  up. 

Then  I  was  called  to  Horton  Street.  Brother  Robinson  was 
pastor.  There  the  Lord  blessed  us  mightily.  There  was  a  sweep- 
ing revival.  Every  night  for  more  than  two  weeks  the  church  was 
packed,  altar  and  pulpit.  Some  of  the  good  folks  really  got  tried 
because  the  people  crowded  so.  I  remember  one  Sunday  night  the 
aisles  and  pulpit  steps  were  crowded.  Poor  old  Brother  Taska, — 
now  in  heaven  —  had  hard  work  to  get  into  the  pulpit,  and  when 
he  did  get  there  he  was  obliged  to  stand.  He  said  he  would  not 
come  again  in  such  a  crowd. 

After  the  address  was  over  we  tried  to  make  room  for  the 
altar  service.  It  was  not  long  till  the  altar  was  filled  with  seekers, 
some  for  pardon,  some  for  purity.  I  noticed  a  young  man  who  sat 
on  a  chair  in  the  aisle  and  seemed  to  be  deeply  interested.  He 
seemed  as  though  he  wanted  to  come  forward;  and  then,  Chere  was 
a  young  lady  with  him.  I  watched  him.  All  at  once  he  got  up 
and  laid  his  hat  and  coat  down  and  came  forward,  and  just  as  he 
put  his  hand  on  the  altar  rail  and  was  in  the  act  of  kneeling  down, 
the  Lord  blessed  him  so  powerfully  that  he  clapi)ed  his  hands  and 
shouted,  Glory  to  God,  I  am  saved.  He,  like  the  p(M)r  man  in  the 
Gospel,  the  leper  that  came  to  Jesus,  said,  "Lord,  if  Thou  wilt 
Thou  canst  make  me  clean,"  and  Jesus  said  to  him  in  return,  "  I 
will;  be  thou  clean." 

(225) 


336  Autobiography  op 

As  he  turned  to  face  the  congregation,  his  sister,  that  he  had 
not  seen  for  years,  was  just  behind  him.  She  had  been  praying 
for  him,  but  she  did  not  know  that  he  was  there,  nor  did  he  know 
that  she  was  there.  She  sprang  to  him  and  threw  her  arms  around 
his  neck  and  they  had  a  good  time  of  rejoicing  together.  This 
had  a  marvelous  effect  upon  the  congregation.  A  number  came 
forward,  and  many  professed  to  be  saved  that  night. 

One  dear  woman  that  I  met  last  fall  at  the  Saturday  night  holi- 
ness meeting,  told  me  she  was  converted  at  that  meeting;  also  her 
husband  and  two  children.  She  told  me  how  she  disliked  me  because 
I  was  a  colored  woman;  how  she  went  to  church  full  of  prejudice, 
but  when  God  saved  her  He  took  it  all  out,  and  now  she  loves  me 
as  a  sister  and  thinks  I  have  a  beautiful  color!  Of  course,  I  call 
that  a  good  conversion  to  begin  with. 

Some  people  don't  get  enough  of  the  blessing  to  take  prejudice 
out  of  them,  even  after  they  are  sanctified. 

Some  time  after  this  I  went  to  Pitman  Church.     Rev.  George 

Mc was  pastor.     The  church  was  not  finished.     We  held 

meetings  in  the  lecture  room,  a  fine  large  room  that  would  hold 
over  three  hundred,  I  suppose,  and  every  night  it  was  packed. 
Here  we  had  a  grand  time  from  the  start.  On  Sunday  afternoon 
we  had  a  marvelous  meeting.  At  that  meeting  dear  Brother 
Alkhorn  got  the  blessing  of  sanctification,  after  seeking  it  for  thirty 
years,  as  he  said  in  his  testimony  when  he  arose.  I  shall  never 
forget  that  Sabbath  afternoon.  The  Lord  wonderfully  helped  me 
to  speak  for  Him. 

Brother  Mc was  a  grand,  good  man  to  work  with, 

though  he  was  not  very  definite  on  the  line  of  holiness,  but  he  said 
to  me,  "Sister  Smith,  you  go  ahead;  I  am  with  you."  So  he  put 
no  bands  on  and  I  had  perfect  freedom,  thank  God. 

Brother  Alkhorn  was  a  local  preacher;  was  a  converted  man 
and  had  'been  for  years,  and  always  longed  for  the  blessing  of 
full  salvation.  He  was  thorough  Weslej'an  as  well  as  Scriptural 
in  his  views  of  the  doctrine.  He  said  he  would  preach  it  and 
sometimes  would  believe  he  had  it,  then  he  would  meet  with  min- 
isters that  did  not  see  it  as  he  did,  and  declare  that  all  was  done  at 
conversion.  Then  he  would  get  in  the  dark  again,  and  this  was 
the  way  he  went  on  for  years. 

He  kept  a  bakery  on  Lumber  street.  I  got  to  know  him  and 
the  tamily  very  well.     He  was  a  member  of  the  Western  Metho- 


Amanda  Smith.  SW 

dist  Church,  and  1  think  Dr.  Patt.rson  was  the  pastor  at  ihe  time 
of  Ills  death. 

lit'  sat  that  Sunday  afternoon  about  tliree  pews  from  the  altar, 
while  many  testimonies  were  ^'iven  —  many  of  them  very  definite 
and  cMear  —  to  the  experience  and  power  of  this  great  salvation. 
Then  we  had  an  altar  service,  and  I  urged  those  who  really  desired 
to  know  the  experience  for  themselves  to  come  forward  and  kneel 
at  the  altar,  and  settle  it  then  and  there.  A  number  came  forward. 
I  saw  Brother  A.  get  up  deliberately,  take  otf  his  overcoat,  fold  it 
together,  and  then  take  his  hat  and  cane  and  walk  forward  and 
hand  them  to  some  of  the  brethren.  And  as  he  kneeled  at  the 
altar,  he  said,  '*  Brethren,  I  want  the  blessing."  And  he  began  to 
pray  like  he  wanted  it,  indeed;  and  in  a  little  while  he  sank  down 
into  a  calm,  and  said,  "It  is  done,  praise  the  Lord.  The  bl(M)d 
cleanseth;  glory  to  Jesus."  He  arose  and  bore  the  testimony  that 
I  have  already  given. 

In  about  a  year,  I  think  it  was,  after  this,  he  met  with  a  sad 
accident;  was  thrown  from  his  wagon,  and  in  a  few  days  died. 
But,  O,  he  triumphs  over  death,  hell  and  the  grave! 

I  lost  a  true  friend  when  he  was  taken,  that  is,  as  the  world 
would  say,  but  I  have  a  never  dying  friend  in  Jesus.  Praise  His 
dear  name  forever. 

At  the  same  altar,  kneeling  just  a  little  further  along  from 
where  Brother  Alkhorn  kneeled,  a  great  big  man,  a  Dutchman, 
was  kneeling.  He  had  been  seeking  the  Lord  for  fifteen  years, 
off  and  on,  but  never  got  into  clear  light.  The  people  at  the 
altar  were  all  getting  blessed,  and  rising  one  after  the  other,  and  it 
was  getting  late  and  time  for  the  meeting  to  close.  This  pcxjr 
man  got  into  an  awful  struggle.  He  cried  out,  "  Lord,  save  me." 
He  wouldn't  get  up. 

"Hold  on,"  I  shouted,  "you  are  nearly  out." 

I  felt  things  were  giving  way,  and  I  said,  "All  you  need,  all 
you  want,  is  a  little  more  faith  in  Jesus,"  and  his  poor  wife  felt 
she  could  not  hold  on  any  longer.  She  came  inside  the  altar  and 
was  just  about  to  throw  her  arms  around  his  neck.  She  was  over- 
come with  sympathy  for  him.  I  caught  her  and  said,  "Oh,  what- 
ever you  do,  don't  touch  him;  you  will  hinder  him." 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "  I  have  prayed  so  long." 

I  held  on  to  her  and  kept  her  back,  while  the  brethren  were 
encouraging  his  faith.     In  a  ftw  minutes  he  sprang  to  his  feet, 


228  Autobiography  op 

shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  I  am  saved,  I  am  saved.  Glory 
to  Jesus!     Glory  to  Jesus!  " 

I  let  his  wife  go  and  he  caught  her  up  in  his  arms,  then  he  let 
her  go  and  caught  hold  of  some  of  the  brethren.  Oh,  how  he 
shouted!  I  kept  out  of  the  way;  of  course  I  wouldn't  interfere. 
So  this  was  a  good  start  for  our  meeting  for  the  week. 

We  went  on  for  ten  da^s,  and  there  were  scores  converted. 
During  all  this  time  the  interest  never  flagged  one  night. 

Brother  M.  wanted  me  to  staj^  longer,  but  I  could  not.  I  had 
an  engagement  at  Long  Island,  with  Brother  Hollis.  It  was  at  this 
time  my  house  in  Philadelphia  was  planned  for,  without  my 
knowledge.  About  two  weeks  after,  I  got  a  letter  from  Mrs.  James 
Orr.  She  said,  "Some  friends  are  planning  to  buy  you  a  house, 
but  they  don't  want  you  to  know  it,  so  don't  let  on  that  I  have 
told  you." 

I  was  dreadfully  frightened,  and  as  soon  as  I  had  read  the  let- 
ter I  got  on  my  knees  and  pra}  ed  that  the  Lord  would  not  let  them 
succeed  in  getting  the  house  that  they  were  planning  for.  I 
thought  it  was  too  much  for  me.  I  said,  the  idea  of  a  poor  woman 
like  me  having  a  house  given  to  her!  There  must  be  something 
wrong  about  it.     Oh,  how  I  prayed! 

Several  days  after  this  I  got  another  letter,  saying  that  the 
house  they  were  looking  at  and  wanted,  they  could  not  get.  There 
was  something  that  was  not  just  satisfactory  in  regard  to  the  deed, 
so  I  thought  the  Lord  had  answered  my  prayer,  and  it  was  all 
right. 

In  a  day  or  two  I  was  off  again,  holding  meetings.  After  ten 
days,  I  came  home.  A  number  of  letters  were  waiting  for  me  — 
two  from  Philadelphia.  I  opened  and  read  them.  The  first  was 
from  the  same  person.  She  said,  "  Don't  say  I  told  you,  for  they 
want  to  surprise  you.  They  have  looked  at  another  house  and 
have  made  arrangements  to  buy,  and  will  pay  so  much  to  close  the 
bargain,  such  a  day." 

That  was  all  done  two  days  before  I  got  home,  as  I  saw  by  the 
date  of  the  letter.  Then  I  thought  it  all  over.  I  said,  I  have 
never  asked  the  Lord  to  give  me  a  house,  and  I  wonder  if  He  really 
wants  me  to  have  it.  It  must  mean  something,  for  why  should 
these  people  persist  in  getting  the  house  for  me?  I  am  a  colored 
woman,  and  they  are  all  white,  and  they  are  strangers.  So  then  I 
got  down  and  prayed  the  Lord  to  bless  and  prosper  those  who  had 


Amanda  Smith.  0^9 

undertaken  it.  The  lady  that  wrote  me  had  told  me  how  that 
everybody  was  favorable  to  it,  how  much  Chaplain  Gibbeii  and  his 
wife  were  interested  and  had  given  quite  a  sum  to  start  witli. 
Well,  it  did  look  as  though  the  Lord  was  in  it. 

Then  I  opened  the  other  letters.  There  was  one  from  the  very 
gentleman  who  was  the  i)roposer,  and  who  had  set  the  thing 
going,  Brother  Andrew  Marshall.  He  was  well  known  in  Phila- 
delphia, one  of  the  leading  men  in  Pitman,  C'hurch  at  the  time, 
and  a  man  doing  a  large  busine.ss  in  the  bakery  and  confectionery, 
and  a  good  man,  so  I  could  but  feel  the  Lord  was  in  it.  He  told 
me  all  about  it.  The  house  was  three  thousand  dollars,  subject 
to  the  ground  rent  of  sixty  dollars  a  year.  Two  thousand  dollars 
of  this  money  had  already  been   provided   for  through  friends  of 

Mr.  Ma ,    so  that  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  part  of  it  in 

any  way;  I  must  only  be  ready  to  come  at  the  time  they  said.  So 
away  1  went  for  two  weeks  more. 

When  I  returned  there  were  letters.  The  house  was  bought, 
the  deed  was  made  out  in  my  name,  and  I  only  to  come  on.  They 
said  you  need  not  bring  anything  if  you  don't  care  to.  Some  of 
the  ladies  of  Pitman  with  Mrs.  Orr,  had  gone  to  work  and  fur- 
nished two  rooms,  the  front  bed-room  upstairs,  and  the  front 
parlor  downstairs;  everything  nice  and  comfortable.  So  I  got 
ready  and  went. 

I  took  a  very  few  things;  I  had  not  many.  My  dear  old  irons 
and  ironing-board,  that  had  seen  me  through  so  many  hard 
places  in  New  York,  I  couldn't  forget  them  nor  leave  them  behind! 
Then  the  little,  low,  old  chair  that  I  had  kneeled  beside  and 
fought  such  a  battle,  on  the  remembrance  of  the  New  York  riot 
after  I  was  sanctified!     I  said,  "  I  must  take  these  things  anyhow." 

It  was  late  on  Saturday  evening  before  I  got  otf,  so  I  did  not 
get  to  the  house  till  about  seven  p.  m.  Then,  sure  enough,  at  1817 
Addison  street,  a  nice  little  three  story  brick  house,  nice  white 
marble  steps  in  front,  all  lighted  with  gas! 

It  was  very  nice.  Then  there  were  a  number  of  friends 
gathered,  and  a  good  warm  fire.  I  didn't  know  what  to  do  or  say, 
and  I  praised  the  Lord,  and  thanked  the  people,  and  I  said,  "  Is  it 
really  mine?"  Then  they  handed  me  the  deed.  Then  I  said, 
*•  Let  us  pray." 

That  seemed  out  of  order,  for  we  were  all  too  happy  to  pray, 
80  we  sang  the  Doxology. 


^SO  Autobiography  op 

"  Let  me  walk  up  and  down  in  it,"  I  said;  so  we  went  upstairs 
in  all  the  rooms;  I  looked  in  all  the  closets,  everywhere,  then  we 
went  down  in  the  basement,  then  I  had  the  nicest  tea!  The  ladies 
had  provided  everything. 

It  all  seemed  very  fine.  Everything  went  on  nicely  for  about 
a  year,  then  came  a  trial. 

The  great  Centennial  had  started  hopes  and  expectations  in 
many  that  were  never  realized;  so  it  was  with  Brother  M.  In 
this  extremity  he  got  Brother  Robinson,  one  of  the  leading  mem- 
bers in  Salem  M.  E.  Church,  to  help  him  meet  some  liabilities 
which  were  urgent,  which  he  did.  Then  it  appears  that  Brother 
M.  failed  on  his  side,  which  caused  great  dissatisfaction  and 
unpleasantness  between  these  friends. 

I  knew  but  little  about  it.  I  didn't  try  £o  know.  I  felt  that 
what  they  had  done  was  out  of  real  kindness  to  me,  though  bad 
luck  came  of  it,  as  it  often  does  out  of  our  best  motives.  This 
placed  me  in  a  very  embarrassing  position.  They  were  both 
Christian  gentlemen  and  business  men,  and  who  was  I  to  dictate 
to  them  about  what  they  were  doing  so  kindly  for  me. 

It  got  into  the  papers,  through  Brother  Wallace,  that  the 
friends  in  Philadelphia,  had  given  Amanda  Smith  a  house,  and 
also  one  at  Ocean  Grove.  Mr.  M.  called  my  attention  to  the  fact. 
I  said,  "  That  is  a  mistake;  all  I  have  at  Ocean  Grove,  is  this:  the 
committee  are  always  very  kind  and  they  do  not  charge  me  for 
my  tent  and  ground  during  the  time  I  stay,  but  that  is  all." 

"Brother  M.,"  I  said,  "you  can  correct  that;  see  Brother 
Wallace  and  tell  him,"  for  he  was  then  editor  of  the  "Home 
Journal,"  and  it  was  in  that  paper  that  the  statement  was  made. 

"If  I  do  it,"  I  said,  "it  will  look  as  if  I  were  dissatisfied,  or 
like  casting  some  reflection  on  your  management  of  affairs." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  will  see  Brother  Wallace,"  but  I  don't 
know  whether  he  did  or  not.  From  that  time,  according  to  the 
best  I  could  learn,  the  donations  to  complete  the  payment  on  the 
house  stopped;  but  so  far  as  that  was  concerned,  I  had  nothing  at 
all  to  do.  I  had  just  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  hand.  This 
the  Lord  had  given  me  at  different  camp  meetings  during  the  sum- 
mer. I  had  given  the  one  hundred  to  Mr.  M.  I  kept  the  rest.  I 
had  my  house  all  papered  and  painted  inside,  and  a  tin  roof  put 
on;  it  was  not  very  long  till  it  was  all  done. 

Always  before  this  time  I  had  managed,  and  had  enough  to 


Amanda  Smith.  231 

get  on  with  nicely,  unci  I  ihoufrht  as  the  hoiiso  was  mine,  it  was 
right  I  should  put  it  in  good  order,  tiien  I  would  not  have  to  do  it 
in  a  long  time  again;  but  this  statement  in  the  papers  a tfec ted  me 
personally,  greatly.  I  went  about  holding  meetings  as  usual,  but 
got  but  very  little  to  what  I  had  received  before.  People  said, 
•*She  is  all  right,  she  has  two  houses,  one  at  Ocean  Grove,  one  in 
Philadelphia,"  so,  of  course,  if  I  had  two  houses  I  was  rich  and 
needed  nothing  to  eat  or  drink  I 

Well,  I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  but  the  Lord  helped  me  to 
hold  still.  I  came  home  from  a  tour  in  Ohio,  and  went  to  Ocean 
Grove  Camp  Meeting.  I  had  been  there  two  days  when  a  telegram 
came,  saying: 

"  Come  home  at  once.     Marshall," 

"What  in  the  world  is  the  matter?  "  I  wonden-d. 

I  got  ready  and  went  on,  at  about  ten  a.  m.  Went  to  the  store, 
saw  Brother  M.     He  was  bright  and  happy. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  I  asked. 

Then  he  told  me  he  was  embarrassed,  and  it  was  necessary  for 
him  to  meet  a  note  at  such  a  time. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "what  do  you  want  me  to  do?" 

**I  thought  r  would  ask  you  if  you  would  sign  a  mortgage, 
then  we  could  borrow  the  money  out  of  the  Building  Association 
till  such  a  time,  and  I  would  get  straight." 

"  You  know.  Brother  M.,"  I  replied,  "I  don't  know  a  bit  about 
the  Building  Association,  I  never  could  get  it  through  my  head,  I 
have  never  done  anything  but  pay  my  rent,  that  is  all.  I  can  lead 
a  prayer  meeting  now  and  then,  and  that  is  about  all  I  know." 

"This  will  be  all  right,"  he  said. 

"Well,  if  you  say  so,  I  will  do  it." 

So  he  went  and  had  the  papers  made  out.  I  had  made 
myself  responsible  to  the  Building  Association  for  fifteen  dollars  a 
month.  I  had  never  paid  so  heavy  a  rent  before;  then,  five  dollars 
a  month  for  my  ground  rent,  made  it  twenty  dollars  a  month, 
besides  other  expenses;  but  I  did  the  best  I  could. 

Mr.Clegg,  who  was  the  Secretary  of  the  Building  Association, 
was  very  kind,  and  I  told  him  T  didn't  know  how  in  the  work!  I 
could  ever  carry  it.  He  told  me  to  hold  on  and  it  would  be  better 
after  a  while. 

Some  months  had  passed,  I  don't  know  how  long,  when  Brother 
M.  came  to  me  again  and  asked  me  to  help  him  meet  another 
engagement.     So  I  went  again:  the  papers  were  made  out. 


333  Autobiography  op 

When  Mr.  Ma stated  to  the  lawyer  the  object  of  our 

coming  again,  the  lawyer  turned  to  me  and  looked  at  me  right  in 
the  face,  and  said  to  me,  "Do  you  want  to  sign  this  paper?" 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  I  suppose  I  will  have  to." 

Then  he  gave  a  quiet  grumble  to  himself,  as  it  were,  and  began 
to  write,  and  1  was  asked  to  sign  my  name.  That  look  he  gave  me 
seemed  to  have  an  expression  in  it  like  this,  "Well,  you  are  a  fool,*' 
and  that  is  just  about  the  way  I  felt,  but  still  I  signed  the  papers 
and  became  responsible  still  further  to  the  Building  Association. 

Now,  with  my  ground  rent  and  taxes  I  must  pay  forty  dollars 
a  month.  I  told  Mr.  M.  T  could  not  do  it,  but  he  said  he  would 
take  hold  and  help  me  out  as  soon  as  these  urgent  demands  were 
met. 

I  must  go  on,  only  God  knows  how  I  did.  Sometimes  I  didn't 
have  money  enough  to  get  me  a  loaf  of  bread.  I  went  to  Mr.  Cleg 
and  told  him  he  must  take  the  house,  I  could  not  pay  the  dues. 
He  WIS  very  kind. 

"Hold  on,  Mrs.  Smith,  pay  what  you  can,  we  will  not  push 
you,"  he  said,  "everything  is  dull  just  now,"  etc. 

I  got  so  little  for  my  services,  I  could  not  get  on,  and  the  con- 
stant thought  I  had  to  carry  all  the  time  that  I  was  getting  still 
deeper  in  debt  to  the  Building  Association.  I  was  ashamed  to  tell 
anyone,  it  would  look  to  white  people  like  bad  management  on  the 
part  of  those  who  were  my  friends.  Then  I  knew  what  some  of 
my  own  people  would  say,  and  had  said  already,  that  I  was  a  kind 
of  a  "white  folks'  nigger,"  and  I  knew  they  would  say,  "That  is 
just  what  I  told  you  it  would  all  come  to,  can't  tell  me  about 
white  folks."  They  wouldn't  see  God  in  any  of  it,  so  here  I  was. 
What  to  do  1  didn't  know.  I  could  not  speak  of  it  publicly  for  the 
reason  I  have  already  mentioned. 

One  day  I  came  home  in  great  distress  of  mind.  I  was  away 
in  Jersey  helping  a  good  brother  who  wanted  me  so  much  to  help 
him.  I  went.  He  told  me  the  people  were  very  poor  and  could 
not  give  me  much,  and,  though  I  had  a  number  of  other  calls 
where  I  could  have  expected  more,  I  chose  to  go  to  this  place  and 
help  this  brother. 

After  two  weeks'  hard  work  they  gave  me  six  dollars;  and 
my  railroad  expenses  were  three  dollars  the  round  trip.  The  peo- 
ple were  poor,  but  kind  and  good,  and  the  minister  was  a  good 
roan  and  had  a  large  family,  but  they  were  poor.   God  bless  them. 


Amanda  Smith.  233 

They  got  m<'  a  homv  witH  a  sistrr,  wluTf  I  was  comfortable  as  I 
could  be.  though  somrtimt's  it  was  vtTV  cold. 

I  got  horn*'  about  ton  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  slipped  into  the 
house,  kept  the  front  wind  )ws  closed,  opened  one  window  in  the 
back  room,  and  got  down  on  my  knees.  I  said,  "Now,  Lord,  you 
must  help  me,  for  I  can't  go  another  day  with  this  burden."*  It 
was  dark.  I  did  not  eat.  I  thought  and  planned  in  my  mind,  and 
thought.  Then  I  would  pray  aerain.  When  I  gave  out,  I  got  up 
and  lay  down  on  the  sofa  and  studied  what  plan  I  shoidd  take. 

"  If  I  go  to  Mr  Ma ,  he  will  say  just  as  he  .said  before.     If  I 

go  to  Mr.  C,  he  is  so  kind,  and  will  say  the  same."  Then,  down 
on  my  knees  again.  I  saw  myself  put  out  of  the  hous.-  with  no 
place  to  go.  I  sat  with  my  things  all  around  me  and  the  people 
looking,  some  were  laughing  and  saying,  "I  told  you  so." 

Oh,  what  a  struggle  it  was.  It  all  seemed  as  real  as  life  itself. 
I  died  out  completely  on  this  point,  and  when  the  last  pang  was 
over  I  felt  myself  singing  Brother  John  Parker's  hymn:— 

•     "  I  am  more  than  conqueror  through  his  blood, 
Jesus  saves  me  now. 
I  rest  beneath  the  shield.of  God, 
Jesus  saves  me  now." 
Chorus.— "Though  foes  be  strong. 
And  walls  be  high, 
I'll  shout.  He  gives  the  victory, 
I'll  shout.  He  gives  the  victory, 
Jesus  saves  me  now." 

This  was  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  I  arose  from  the 
place  and  took  my  things  off,  for  I  had  only  laid  off  my  bonnet.  I 
opened  the  house  upstairs  and  down,  hoisted  the  windows  and 
sang  all  the  hymns  I  knew  of  by  heart,  I  sang  loud  and  strong. 
Oh,  what  a  victory!  A  short  time  after  this,  the  Lord  marvel- 
ously  opened  my  way  to  go  to  England,  yes,  I  say  marvelously.  for 
all  told,  it  was  really  marvelous,  indeed. 

After  I  had  been  in  England  about  six  months,  though  1  had 
writt«-n  to  Mr.  Ma and  Robinson,  also  Mr.Clegg,  thr  .secre- 
tary of  the  Building  A.ssociation,  a  letter  from  Mr.  Robins<jn  came 
to  say  I  must  come  home  at  once,  the  taxes  had  not  b.'en  paid, 
and,  I  suppose,  to  hurry  me,  he  said  the  house  could  t)e  sold  for 
taxes  if  not  paid  by  such  a  day. 


234  Autobiography  of 

I  had  no  one  to  refer  to,  but  these  two  brethren,  that  had 
trouble  enough  with  it  already.  I  was  at  Mildmay,  in  London, 
when  this  letter  came.  My  head  whirled  for  a  moment.  I  was  in 
the  street  when  I  opened  and  read  the  letter.  I  felt  as  though  I 
could  fly.  I  said,  what  can  I  do,  this  is  Thursday.  I  thought  I 
would  go  and  pack  my  trunk  and  take  the  night  train  to  Liver- 
pool, and  so  take  the  first  steamer  going  out.  My  heart  beat  and 
my  mind  was  so  confused.  I  stood  still  and  closed  my  eyes  and 
asked  the  Lord  to  quiet  me  and  tell  me  what  to  do.  In  a  moment 
He  took  every  thought  and  wish  to  go  home  out  of  me.  I  said  I 
can  write  and  say  all  I  need  to  say,  and  the  same  steamer  that  I 
would  go  on  will  take  the  letter. 

So  I  wrote  to  Brother  Robinson,  "  I  can't  come,  but  sell  the 
house  or  give  it  away,  I  don't  wish  it,  get  your  money  out,  I  don't 
want  any." 

I  see  now  I  might  have  done  differently  if  I  only  had  known 
how,  but  still  it  would  have  been  a  great  burden  and  anxiety  on 
me,  for  instead  of  staying  three  months  I  was  ^one  twelve  years. 

Then  after  I  went  to  India,  while  I  was  at  Naini  Tal*  Upper 
India,  they  sent  me  papers  to  sign,  and  I  went  before  a  magistrate 
at  Naini  Tal,  India,  and  in  the  presence  of  these  witnesses  I  signed 
all  rights  and  claim  away.  So  the  house  was  sold,  and  Amanda 
Smith  was  where  she  was  when  she  first  started,  so  far  as  having 
a  house  was  concerned;  and  that  ended  the  house  that  so  many 
people  think  I  still  own. 

I  was  sorry  for  the  good  people  who  had  given  the  money,  but 
could  not  help  it.  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it  from  first  to  last, 
but  to  accept  it,  as  I  have  before  stated.  After  the  house  was 
sold,  the  people  had  to  move.  I  wrote  to  them  to  take  care  of  my 
things.  I  sent  the  money  to  help  to  move  the  first  time,  but  they 
moved  a  number  of  times  in  twelve  years,  so  I  found  it  difficult  to 
keep  up  to  that. 

Every  one  knows  that  often  in  moving,  even  when  one  is  right 
on  the  spot  themselves  to  look  after  their  things,  it  is  difficult  to 
save  losses  and  come  out  straight,  so  what  must  I  expect  when  I 
came  home  from  Africa.  I  had  no  place  to  go.  The  people  had 
stored  the  things  and  had  gone  away  for  the  summer,  and  had  not 
got  home  when  I  arrived.  When  they  did  come,  they  could  not 
get  a  house  large  enough  to  accommodate  us  all,  but  a  good  friend 
in  Brooklyn,  Mr.  Tom  Gibson,  and  his  wife,  had  written  me  in 


Amanda  Smith.  335 

rCngliiiul  iuviiing  me  to  com*'  .iml  sjx'nd  somr  time  with  them. 
On  tho  day  1  arrived  I  sent  a  t«'l»'f.M-:ini  to  him  from  the  stei^.Tjer, 
and  Mr.  Gibson  came  to  meet  me  and  t(K)k  mr  lo  liis  home,  and  I 
stayed  with  them  two  wrcks. 

Mrs.  Gibson  was  quit*'  ill  at  tin-  timi',  and  has  since  passed 
away.  I  had  known  them  for  twenty  years.  Mrs  Titus,  her 
mother,  g^ave  me  a  place  to  stay  in  her  tent  the  first  time  I  was  at 
Round  Lake  Camp  Meeting,  and,  after  that,  gmnl  lirothers  Hill- 
man  and  Hartsliorn  always  saw  that  I  had  a  tent  all  to  myself. 
God  bh'ss  them. 

After  the  two  weeks  I  felt  I  must  have  a  room,  my  trunk  and 
things  were  in  the  way,  and  through  a  friend  of  Mrs.  Gibson's  I 
got  a  small  back  room,  which  I  had  to  pay  ten  dollars  a  month 
for.  I  could  not  do  better  at  the  time,  but  the  Lord  kn<'W  I  could 
not  stand  that  long,  but  O,  I  was  so  weak  and  worn  and  I  must 
have  some  place. 

A  number  of  friends  in  different  places  kindly  invited  me  to 
come  and  stay  with  them,  but  all  wanted  me  to  hold  some  meet- 
ings, and  I  was  too  tired  and  wear}'  to  think  sometimes,  and  then 
the  Lord,  who  is  ever  a  present  help  in  time  of  trouble,  put  it  in 
the  heart  of  that  grand  woman,  Mrs.  Mary  R.  Denmen,  of  Newark, 
and  she  wrote  to  me  and  said  for  me  to  come  to  Newark,  and  she 
would  give  me  a  room  in  one  of  her  houses.  The  house  that  her 
coachman  lived  in  was  a  nice,  comfortable  little  house,  with 
.seven  rooms,  and  Joseph  had  but  a  small  family,  so  I  could  have 
one  room  there  free  of  rent.  Oh,  how  I  praised  the  Lord  for  His 
wonderful,  loving  kindness,  providing  for  me. 

Mrs.  Denmen  is  a  member  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  but  ever 
since  I  have  known  her,  for  over  twenty  years,  I  have  never  had 
a  warmer  and  truer  friend  than  she  has  been.  Her  friendship  is 
so  practical,  only  God  Himself  knows  how  many  times  she  has 
helped  me  when  I  know  that  no  mortal  knew  my  need  but  the 
Lord  himself. 

I  have  enjoyed  my  cozy  little  room  this  winter,  while  I  have 
been  writing  my  book,  though  much  of  the  time  I  am  away,  but 
there  is  no  place  like  home  when  you  are  there.  Surely,  the  eyes 
of  the  Lord  run  to  and  fro  over  the  whole  earth  to  show  Himself 
strong  in  behalf  of  them  whose  heart  is  perfect  towards  Him,  and 
now  I  don't  know  where  I  may  next  be  led,  but  no  matter  where  I 
go  I  shall  never  forget  No.  64  Park  street,  Newark,  nor  my  beloved 


236  Autobiography  of 

benefactress,  Mrs.  Mary  R.  Denmon.  May  God  bless  her  and  her 
dear  family. 

Mr.  Reecherhad  two  Mission  churches  in  Rrooklyn  —  Rethany 
and  the  Mayflower.  I  spent  a  week  at  each,  in  1878.  In  both  of 
these  churches  the  Lord  blessed  us  very  greatly. 

I  remember  very  distinctly  one  special  incident  —  the  recon- 
ciliation between  two  brothers  who  had  once  been  very  dear 
friends.  They  were  boys  to^^ether,  and  were  both  in  business  in 
the  same  office,  in  New  York.  They  were  both  professed  Chris- 
tians, members  of  the  church.  One  was  Superintendent  of  the 
Sabbath  School.  Rut  they  had  some  falling  out,  and  had  not 
spoken  to  each  other  for  four  or  five  years. 

Roth  wanted  to  speak,  but  each  was  too  spunky  to  speak  first, 
and  the  longer  it  went  on  the  more  difficult  it  became,  until  at 
last  Mr.  R.  said  he  was  so  miserable  he  had  resigned  his  position 
as  Superintendent,  and  had  quit  going  to  church  regularly,  and 
was  just  making  up  his  mind  to  withdraw  from  the  church 
entirely.  His  wife  begged  of  him,  for  the  sake  of  the  three  beau- 
tiful children  they  had,  and  the  influence  it  would  have  on  them, 
not  to  leave,  so  he  was  holding  on,  but  felt  he  would  leave.  Oh! 
how  the  Devil  chuckles  over  anything  like  that. 

Though  they  would  not  speak,  the}'  would  make  hateful 
insinuations  and  remarks  about  each  other,  so  that  each  would 
get  what  the  other  said,  without  speaking;  and  how  tantalizing 
that  is.  Rut  God,  who  is  so  rich  in  mercy,  will  not  let  us  be 
tempted  above  that  we  are  able  to  bear,  but  will,  with  the  tempta- 
tion, also  make  a  way  of  escape.  It  pleased  the  Lord  to  let  me  be 
at  the  Mayflower  just  at  that  time. 

One  night,  while  I  was  speaking  on  the  forgiveness  of  our 
enemies,  the  Spirit  of  God  got  hold  of  this  young  man.  At  the 
close  of  the  meeting  he  came  up  and  said  he  wanted  to  talk  to  me, 
and  he  told  me  his  story.  I  urged  him  to  go  to  his  brother  and 
have  a  talk  with  him. 

"I  know  he  will  not  speak." 

"Rut,"  I  said,  "you  speak  to  him." 

"  But  I  know  him  so  well,"  he  said,  "  that  I  know  if  I  do  he 
will  curse  me,  and  I  can't  stand  it." 

I  told  him  that  God  would  help  him  if  he  would  resolve  to  do 
right.  After  a  long  talk  and  prayer  he  said  he  would  go  to  him. 
I  told  him  I  would  pray  for  him  that  night  and  all  the  next  day, 
and  in  the  evening  he  was  to  report  about  it. 


Amanda  Smith  237 

And  Oh!  howl  did  {tray  for  thosf  two  mrn.  Only  as  ;i  soul 
can  pray  when  it  fcrls  that  CJod  is  about  to  j^ain  a  victory.  N«'Xt 
morning,  somehow,  I  felt  so  quirt  and  joyful.  And  yet  I  did  not 
know  what  had  happened.  Only  I  believed  God  had  undertaken 
for  them. 

The  evening  came  on.  I  went  to  church,  and  I  saw  this  gen- 
tleman come  in.  His  face  was  like  a  sunbeam.  He  was  hand- 
some, anyhow.  But,  Oh!  now  ho  was  beautiful.  I  knew  some- 
thing had  happenrd.  The  heavy,  deep,  gloomy  countenanc<'  was 
gone.  He  made  his  way  to  me  at  the  close  of  the  meeting,  and 
said: 

"Oh!  Sister  Smith,  praise  the  Lord,  it  is  all  right." 

"Amen,"  I  said.    "  I  told  you  so.  Well,  now  tell  mo  about  it." 

"Well,"  he  said,  "I  made  up  my  mind  last  night  that  I  would 
speak  to  Will  anyhow,  and  if  he  would  not  speak,  and  would  curse 
mo,  I  didn't  care.  The  Lord  fixed  it  so  nice.  I  pray<>d  all  the 
morning  as  I  was  going.  I  am  generally  at  the  ofTice  first.  But 
this  morning  he  was  there.  So  I  went  in.  There  was  no  one  in 
but  him.  1  walked  right  up  to  him,  and  I  said:  'Look  here, Will, 
I  think  it  is  time  you  and  I  were  done  with  this  foolishness  of 
ours,'  and  he  si)rang  to  his  feet  and  took  me  by  the  hand  and  said, 
with  tears,  '  Yes,  Charlie,  I  have  wanted  to  speak  to  you  for  a 
month,  but  I  was  afraid  you  wouldn't  speak.'  'And  Will,'  I  said, 
'  I  have  wanted  to  speak  to  you,  but  thought  you  didn't  care  to 
speak  to  me,  and  would  curse  me.  But  the  Lord  has  blessed  m*. 
and  now  wo  are  old  friends  again.     Thank  the  Lord! '  " 

If  nothing  else  was  done  at  that  mooting,  surely  it  was  a  great 
victory;  this  long  breach  between  these  two  brothers  healed,  and 
a  reconciliation  taken  place.  Satan  would  rather  they  had  fought 
a  duel.  But  the  best  way  to  fight  a  duel,  in  my  opinion,  is  on 
your  knees,  surrendering  to  God,  and  getting  a  heart  filltd  with 
love  and  forgiveness.     Amen. 

Monday  night  I  was  at  Dr.  Cuyler's  Church,  Tue.sday  at  thf 
Methodist  Church,  Wednesday  night  at  the  Baptist  Church,  and 
we  ended  our  services  the  next  Sabbath  at  Dr.  Buddington's.  The 
ministers  all  united  and  gave  their  churches,  and  all  the  collec- 
tions, so  the  ladies  were  liberal  with  me,  God  bless  tlum.  Tli'-y 
knew  nothing  of  my  expectation  of  going  to  England,  sw  I  could 
see  it  was  all  the  Lord's  doings,  and  was  marvelous.  I  asked  the 
Lord  for  everything  1  needed,  direct. 


238  AUTOBIO(iRArHY   OF 

The  summer  before,  my  good  friend,  Mrs.  Saundt-rs,  had  given 
me  a  very  nice  bhick  silk  dress,  had  it  made  and  all,  and  I  had 
expected  it  to  last  me  all  my  lifetime,  so  I  put  it  away  and  had  not 
worn  it.  Then  when  I  was  at  Fleet  Street,  the  ladies  had  given 
me  a  grey  suit,  dress  and  cape,  so  I  had  these  two  good  dresses, 
and  one  other  that  I  traveled  in.  Some  one  gave  me  a  pair  of  kid 
gloves,  then  some  one  gave  me  some  ruching  for  the  neck  of  my 
dress;  some  pocket  handkerchiefs  were  given  me,  and  some  one 
gave  me  stockings.  Oh,  it  was  wonderful  how  everything  seemed 
to  come  in.  So  my  wardrobe  was  complete,  though  not  elaborate, 
and,  of  course,  it  did  not  take  me  long  to  arrange  it  in  my  trunk. 

That  night  at  Dr.  Cuyler's  Church  they  had  the  lecture  room 
engaged  and  all  lighted  and  warmed  so  nicely,  but  he  was  regret- 
ting that  a  meeting  had  been  arranged  for  Monday  night  at  his 
church,  as  he  was  anxious  the  ladies  should  have  a  good  collec- 
tion; also,  owing  to  the  old  folks'  concert  that  was  to  be  held  at 
Dr.  Sudder's  Church,  that  night  was  not  so  favorable.  He  was 
afraid  it  would  affect  the  result  of  the  meeting,  but  his  great  sur- 
prise was  the  fact  that  the  meeting  was  to  begin  at  half  past  seven 
p.  M.  I  got  there  at  a  quarter  past  seven  and  the  lecture  room  was 
crowded,  and  many  outside,  and  the  people  were  clamoring  and 
saying  we  must  open  the  church.  I  never  got  in  at  all  till  the 
church  had  been  opened  and  a  fire  started.  As  soon  as  the  church 
was  opened  the  people  rushed  out  of  the  lecture  room  into  the 
church.  Dr.  Cujier  told  me  to  wait  in  the  lecture  room  till  the 
people  got  settled. 

This  unsettled  me  a  little,  but  I  prayed  the  more  that  God 
would  bless  the  people  and  help  me  to  speak  for  Him,  and  I  said, 
"Now,  Lord,  don't  let  anybody  take  cold,"  for  the  church  could 
not  be  heated  for  some  time,  but  as  there  had  been  fire  all  day  Sun- 
day, they  thought  it  was  safe  to  venture. 

The  Lord  did  help  me  speak  for  Him.  It  was  wonderful  that 
night  how  He  helped  me.  When  all  was  settled  and  the  large 
church  was  filled  and  many  in  the  gallery,  Dr.  Cuyler  said,  "Mrs. 
Smith,  will  you  go  in  now?"     How  very  kind  he  was! 

I  knew  there  had  been  some  trouble  some  time  before  about  a 
lady  speaking  in  his  church.  I  thought  if  they  would  make  such 
a  fuss  about  one  so  gentle  and  sweet  and  refined  as  Miss  Sarah 
Smiley,  what  would  they  do  with  me?  So  I  said  to  myself, 
"Well,  I  will  do  just  whatever  I  am  told  to  do." 


Amanda  Smuii.  Zi^ 

'•Thfv  will  not  dare  lo  iisk  nu-  inside  the  chancel,"  I  thought, 
"so  if  they  put  a  bench  or  chair  in  the  aisle  and  ask  me  to  stand 
on  it  and  si)eak,  1  will  do  it." 

Mrs.  Johnson  and  Miss  Ludlow  and  a  number  of  the  other 
temperance  ladit-s  were  with  me,  so  Dr.  Cuyl.-r  asked  me  if  I  would 
go  in  the  pulpit. 

"  My!"  1  thought  j  myself;  "  howev.T,  I  will  do  jusl  as  I  am 
told,"  so  I  walked  up,  and  it  was  dreadful  high.  Aftrr  he  had 
seat.'d  me,  he  said,  "Mrs.  Smith,  would  you  like  to  have  one  of 
the  ladies  sit  with  you?" 

"  If  they  would  like  to,  sir,  I  should  be  pleased."  So  he  went 
and  asked  them,  but  each  declined.  Then  he  came  himself  and 
sat  by  me  and  introduced  me  to  the  peopl.'  so  nicely.  1  sang  and 
gave  a  Bible  talk.  I  had  perfect  freedom,  as  if  I  had  been  in  a 
Methodist  Church.  I  talked  an  hour  and  not  a  soul  budg.-d  to  go 
out,  and  Dr.  C.  spoke  highly  of  the  meeting,  and  the  people  gave 
the  ladies  a  real  fat  collection,  just  like  people  do  when  they  are 
reallv  blest! 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

BROOKLYN  —  CALL  TO   GO   TO  ENGLAND  —  BALTIMORE  —  VOYAGE 

OVER. 

I  was  in  Brooklyn  holding  meetings  at  Fleet  Street  Church, 
Rev.  J.  I  Simmons,  pastor.  Then  at  Mr.  Beecher's  Mission, 
"Mayflower."  We  had  a  good  work,  and  also  at  the  other  mis- 
sion, uptown.  Friday  afternoon  the  ladies'  meeting  in  the  lecture 
room  of  Plymouth.  There  were  several  splendid  ladies  there  in 
those  days,  and  are  yet,  no  doubt. 

These  Friday  afternoon  meetings  were  the  regular  ladies'  con- 
secration meetings,  and  on  Saturday  afternoon  we  had  young 
people's  and  children's  meeting  in  the  same  room,  and  I  believe  *a 
number  of  the  dear  young  people  and  children  gave  their  hearts  to 
ihe  Lord,  1  needed  rest  very  much.  I  had  been  going  on  without 
a  break  all  summer  and  all  winter.  I  was  dreadfully  worn 
and  tired,  and  as  soon  as  I  got  through  had  purposed  going  to 
Ocean  Grove  to  rest  a  little.  Dear  old  Brother  Tompkins,  of 
Tompkins  Cove,  N.  Y.,  had  given  me  the  use  of  a  room  at  their 
little  cottage,  where  I  could  go  and  stay  as  long  as  I  chose.  How 
good  of  the  Lord  to  thus  provide  for  me!  How  well  I  remember 
those  dear  friends,  though  they  have  long  since  gone  to  their 
reward. 

Everything  in  the  way  of  comfort  and  convenience  was  left 
for  me  to  use,  so  I  was  anxious  to  get  off.  Rev.  Lindsey  J.  Parker 
was  then  pastor  of  old  Sands  Street  Methodist  Church.  He  came 
after  me  to  come  to  Sands  Street  for  ten  days.  I  was  stopping 
with  a  family  next  door  to  Plymouth  Church,  whose  name  I  can't 
remember,  but  I  know  he  was  a  Baptist  brother,  strong  in  the 
faith,  and  he  doctored  me  well  on  baptism.  My!  how  many  books 
he  gave  me  to  read!  I  am  not  half  through  3^et;  don't  know  as  I 
ever  will  be.      He  was  very  kind,  though,  and  so  was  his  family. 

(240) 


Amanda  Smith.  341 

Well,  I  tried  my  best  to  beg  otf  from  Mr.  Parker  — I  told  him 
how  tired  I  was,  and  how  much  I  needed  rest.  1  told  himi  would 
give  him  the  whole  month  of  September  if  he  would  let  me  otf. 

No,  he  said,  his  oflicial  board  told  him  lu;  must  have  me  conif, 
if  but  for  a  week,  and  I  told  him  I  would  k-t  him  know  the  next 
week.  I  prayed  earnestly  that  th(!  Lord  would  give  mc  slrengtli 
and  help  me  through  that  week,  and  it  was  wonderful  how  lie  did 
help  me  as  I  have  often  asked  Him  before.  So  on  Monday  morn- 
ing I  went  to  see  if  I  could  prevail  on  Dr.  Parker  to  let  me  havt- 
the  rest,  but  no  word  I  could  say  moved  him  from  what  he  had 
said  first. 

Just  when  we  wi-re  busy  talking  the  bell  rang,  and  Dr.  Parker 
was  called  away.  Th»n  a  Miss  Price,  a  friend  of  Mrs.  Parker's, 
was  there  visiting.  She  was  an  English  lady;  had  been  in  this 
country  about  four  years,  and  was  e.xpecting  to  go  home  in  April. 
She  was  very  pleasant,  and  I  began  telling  her  and  Mrs.  Parker 
how  I  was  trying  to  beg  the  Doctor  to  let  me  off  for  a  rest.  So 
finally  Miss  Price  said,  "Well,  you  do  need  rest;  you  had  better 
come  and  go  with  me  to  England  next  month;  it  would  be  just  the 
thing  for  you.  The  great  Paris  Exposition  is  going  on,  and  I  would 
take  you,  and  we  would  have  a  real  nice  time,  and  I  know  the  trip 
would  do  you  good." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "that  would  be  nice." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "  pray  about  it;  I  believe  the  Lord  would 
have  you  go." 

Just  then  Mr.  Parker  came  in  again.  No  more  was  said  about 
England..  He  fixed  on  the  day  I  was  to  come  to  Sands  Street.  I 
closed  my  last  meeting  at  the  "  Mayflower"  on  Saturday  night. 
There  was  a  blessed  work  done,  the  result  of  which  eternity  alone 
will  tell. 

On  Sunday  afternoon  was  our  first  meeting  at  Sands  Street. 
The  old  church  was  crowded.  Our  first  meeting  was  for  the  young 
people  and  children,  and  I  began  by  asking  the  older  people, 
strangers  and  all,  here  and  there,  all  over  the  house,  upstairs  and 
down,  as  I  would  call  them  out,  "  Brother,  how  old  were  you  when 
you  gave  your  heart  to  the  Lord?  "     Then  I  would  ask  a  sister. 

There  were  some  real  gem  testimonies  to  the  gracfof  God,  and 
this  encouraged  and  helped  the  young  people  very  much,  so  when 
I  began  our  altar  st-rvice  it  was  not  long  till  the  altar  was  crowdi-d, 
and  many  of  the  dear  young  pt-oplc  and  childn'fi  professed  tu  have 


343  Autobiography  op 

found  peace  in  believing  that  day.  I  spent  a  week,  putting  in  two 
Sundays,  and  the  Lord  was  with  us  and  gave  us  blessing  all 
through.     Praise  His  name! 

At  the  close  of  this  meeting  Miss  Price  came  up  to  me  and 
spoke  to  me,  and  said,  "  Did  you  pray  about  what  I  told  you?" 

I  didn't  recognize  her  at  first,  and  I  said,  "  About  what?" 

"Don't  you  know  Miss  Price,  that  spoke  to  you  on  Monday 
about  going  to  England?  " 

"  Oh,iyes,  I  do  remember  you  now." 

"  Well,  did  you  pray  about  it?  " 

"  No,"  I  said,  **  I  did  not." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "you  must;  I  believe  the  Lord  would  have 
you  go." 

So  that  night  when  I  went  home  and  got  ready  for  bed,  the 
thought  came  to  me,  "  You  know  that  lady  told  you  to  pray  about 
going  to  England."     I  said,  "  Yes,  that  is  so." 

I  thought  a  moment  and  said  to  myself: 

"Go  to  England!  Amanda  Smith,  the  colored  washwoman, 
go  to  England!  No,  I  am  not  going  to  pray  a  bit;  I  have  to  ask 
the  Lord  for  so  many  things  that  I  really  need,  that  I  am  not  going 
to  bother  Him  with  what  I  don't  need  —  to  go  to  England.  It  does 
well  enough  for  swell  people  to  go,  not  for  me." 

So,  after  I  had  this  little  talk  all  to  myself,  I  said  my  prayers 
and  went  to  bed.  On  Tuesday  afternoon  I  was  invited  to  "tea  to 
Brother  Parker's.  There  were  several  others,  also.  Dr.  Parker's 
brother,  a  young  man,  had  just  come  from  the  old  country.  The 
Doctor  was  well  pleased  to  receive  him  safe,  so  we  were  having  a 
pleasant  chat  at  the  tea  table.  The  young  man  was  telling  of  his 
pleasant  voyage  across  the  sea.  Then  Dr.  Parker  told  what  a 
grand  time  he  had  when  he  came.  He  saidithe  sea  was  beautiful 
and  calm  as  a  mill  pond.  He  told  how  they  had  idanced  —  the 
passengers  I  think  he  referred  to;  as  he  was  a  Methodist  preacher, 
I  don't  suppose  he  indulged  in  dancing. 

I  listened  attentively  to  all,  for  I  never  knew  the  seawascalm. 
My  idea  of  the  great  sea  was  that  it  was  always  rough  and  tossing. 
I  know  I  used  to  sing  that  good  old  hymn:— 

"  Like  the  rough  sea  that  cannot  rest.  * 

So  that  was  my  best  idea  of  the  grand  old  ocean.  I  have 
learned  a  great  deal  about  it  since  then. 


Amanda  Smith.  048 

Miss  Price  sul  oppusilf  ;ii  tlu-  tabic,  and  as  she  had  crossed 
several  limes  hersell'.  she  said,  "There,  Mrs.  Smith,  you  see  what 
u  pleasant  time  we  cuukl  have  on  board  the  steamer." 

"  Yes,  but  it  costs  money  lo  go  to  England,  and  none  but  swell 
folks  can  go." 

"  You  need  not  trouble  about  that,"  she  said,  "  if  you  say  you 
will  go,  1  will  see  to  that  part." 

That  was  a  new  version  of  it,  so  that  night  when  I  went  home, 
1  knelt  down  and  said,  "  Lord,  if  Thou  dost  want  me  to  go  to  Eng- 
land, make  it  very  clear  and  help  me.  I  don't  know  what  1  would 
do  there,  I  don't  know  anybody,  but  if  Thou  dost  want  me.  Lord, 
I  leave  it  all  to  Thee,"  and  somehow  —  I  can't  explain  it  —  but 
God  made  it  so  clear,  and  put  it  in  my  conscience  so  real  and  deep, 
that  I  could  no  more  doubt  that  He  wanted  me  to  go  to  England, 
than  I  could  doubt  my  own  existence.  I  can't  explain  it,  only  I 
knew  it,  and  I  don't  understand  it  now,  but  as  high  as  the  heavens 
are  above  the  earth,  so  are  His  ways  abo-e  our  ways,  and  His 
thoughts  above  our  thoughts. 

When  I  was  through  at  Sands  Street,  and  was  about  tostartto 
Ocean  Grove,  Miss  Price  said: 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Smith,  I  am  going  to  Philadelphia  to  see  a  friend 
married,  and  I  will  be  back  such  a  day,  and  you  can  write  me." 

I  went  down  to  the  grove,  and  I  was  so  glad  to  get  there  and 
have  a  little  quiet  and  rest.  I  swept  and  dusted  my  room  and 
opened  the  windows,  and  it  was  very  pleasant.  It  was  the  first  of 
April,  and,  as  I  thought  it  over,  ''Oh,"  I  said,  "after  all,  I  think 
I  can  get  more  rest  here  than  I  can  by  going  to  England." 

Then  as  I  looked  out  from  my  window  and  saw  the  great 
ocean,  and  heard  the  great  waves  roll  in,  I  trembled.  It  came  to 
me,  *'  Y^ou  need  a  good  rest.  Then  there  is  Mazie,  you  can't  leave 
her  here  alone." 

"  Y''es,"  I  said,  "  that  is  so,  I  guess  I  won't  go."  So  I  did  my 
washing  and  ironing  and  began  my  little  sewing,  mending  and 
darning,  and  getting  my  clothes  in  order,  and  resting  a  little,  for  I 
took  my  time  and  didn't  hurry,  and  so  I  went  on  for  several  days. 

Then  a  letter  came  from  Miss  Price,  saying,  "Let  me  know 
by  return  mail  if  you  will  go  with  me  to  England.  If  you  will  go, 
all  right,  if  not,  I  will  join  a  party  of  ladies  who  are  going." 

A  deep  conviction  camt-  over  me  that  I  must  go,  but  I  said  I 
had  not  rested  half  enough,  and  1  didn't  sleep  well  at  night,  1  went 


244  Autobiography  op 

to  bed  tired  and  got  up  tired,  then,  beside,  it  is  so  far,  three 
thousand  miles  away.  "  O,  dear,  I  will  write  and  tell  her  no,  she 
has  got  those  ladies  to  go  with,  so  that  is  all  right." 

I  sat  down  to  answer  the  letter,  and  there  was  such  a  deep 
dread  came  over  me  as  though  I  ought  not  to  tell  her  I  would  not 
go,  I  could  hardly  write  my  letter. 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "what  is  the  matter  with  me?"  A  whisper 
came  to  me: 

"  Don't  write  her,  no." 

"But  I  can't  go,  I  must  write."  Soon  I  went,  and  I  never 
wrote  a  letter  with  such  a  dread  on  me  before  in  my  life.  I 
finished  it,  and  took  it  to  the  postoffice  and  threw  it  into  the 
letter  box,  and  was  so  glad  to  get  it  out  of  my  hand.  Now,  I  said, 
I  am  free,  and  it  seemed  I  was  lightened  for  a  little  while,  no  sad 
feeling  in  my  heart,  no  burden,  everything  gone. 

"  Oh,"  I  said,  "  how  much  trouble  that  letter  has  given  me, 
that  is  it." 

I  made  several  calls  before  I  went  home,  as  I  had  been  away 
for  three  months.  Everywhere  I  called,  the  friends  were  glad  to 
see  me,  and  said,  "Amanda  Smith,  tell  us  all  about  where  you 
have  been  and  about  the  work,"  and  I  had  much  to  tell  of  what 
God  had  wrought.     Then,  to  sing  and  pray. 

I  did  not  go  home  till  half  past  six,  so  I  felt  all  that  sadness  is 
gone,  I  will  have  a  nice  tea  and  go  to  bed  early. 

I  had  been  in  the  house  about  half  an  hour,  I  suppose,  and  my 
tea  was  about  ready,  and,  all  of  a  suddei),  as  when  a  gas  jet  is 
turned  off,  an  avalanche  of  darkness  seemed  to  come  over  me  like 
the  horror  of  darkness  that  came  over  Abraham.  My  heart  sank, 
and  great  dread  took  possession  of  me.  Every  bit  of  desire  for 
my  supper  left  me,  and  I  wanted  nothing. 

"O,  Lord,"  I  said,  "  what  is  the  matter  with  me?  Do  help  me." 
Then  I  said,  "  I  don't  mean  to  sleep  to-night  till  I  know  what  ails 
me."  So  I  locked  the  doors  and  fastened  the  shutters  and  turned 
down  my  lamp  very  low,  and  got  on  my  knees,  and  I  said,  "Now, 
Lord,  I  don't  know  the  cause  of  this  darkness,  and  I  must  know 
before  I  sleep,  I  am  in  for  it  all  night,  and  I  must  know  what  the 
matter  is." 

I  wept  bitterly,  and  prayed.  Then  I  thought  it  may  be  I  have 
grieved  the  Spirit  in  some  wa}',  in  what  I  said,  when  I  called. 
Then  I  went,  in  my  thoughts,  to  each  place,  and  went  through  all 


Amanda  Smith.  245 

the  conversation,  but,  no,  no  condemnation  there.  Then  1  went 
through  all  my  work,  every  place  1  had  been,  no,  no  condemnation; 
then,  "  I(Ord,  what  is  it?"  1  prostrated  myself  full  Icnj^'lh  on  the 
lloor,  and  wept  and  prayed  as  never  before.  I  said,  Lord,  I  must 
know  what  is  the  matter  with  me.  A  whisper,  "  Arise."  I  rose 
upon  my  knees  by  the  chair,  and  said,  "Now,  Lord,  I  will  be  still. 
Tell  me,  I  pray  Thee,  what  the  matter  is,"  and,  after  a  few 
moments'  stillness,  it  was  as  though  some  one  stood  at  my  right 
side  and  said  distinctly: 

"  You  are  going  about  telling  people  to  trust  the  Lord  in  the 
dark,  to  trust  Him  when  they  can't  see  Him." 
"Yes,  Lord,  I  have  done  so." 

"  Well,  you  tell  otlier  people  to  do  what  you  are  not  willing  to 
do  yours''lf. " 

*"C),  Lord,"  I  said,  "  that  is  mean,  and  by  Thy  grace  I  will  not 
tell  anybody  to  do  what  1  am  not  willing  to  do  myself.  Now,  Lord, 
what  is  it?  "  And  clear  and  distinct  came  these  words,  "  You  are 
afraid  to  trust  the  Lord  and  go  to  England,  you  are  afraid  of  the 
ocean." 

My!  it  took  my  breath,  but  1  said,  "Lord,  that  is  the  truth, 
the  real  truth,"     Of  course  it  was. 

In  a  moment,  in  i)anorama  form,  CJod's  goodness  seemed  to  j)ass 
before  me,  and  His  faithfulness  in  leading  me  and  providing  for 
me  in  every  way,  and  answering  my  prayer  a  thousand  times,  and 
now,  to  think  I  should  be  afraid  to  trust  Him  and  go  to  England. 
Oh,  such  a  sense  of  shame  a.  *illed  me.  I  prostrated  myself  on  the 
tloor  again,  I  felt  I  could  never  look  up  again  in  His  dear  face  and 
pray.  I  never  can  describe  the  awful  sense  of  shame  that  seemed 
to  fill  me,  and  I  cried  out,  "Lord,  forgive  me,  for  Jisus' sake,  and 
give  me  another  chance,  and  I  will  go  to  England." 

Then  I  thought,  "If  I  write  and  tell  Mi.ss  Price  that  I  will  go, 
she  is  a  stranger,  and  she  may  think  I  am  tickle-minded  and  slu 
wt)irt  know  how  to  depend  on  me,  but  if  th.-  Lord  will  givr  uw 
another  chance,  I  will  go  alone.  I  pledge  Thee  Lord,  you  may 
trust  mv,  I  will  obey." 

"  What  about  your  child?  " 

Then  I  saw  myself  on  the  steamer  in  a  big  storm,  and  the  ship 
wrecked;  it  was  so  real,  I  heard  the  timbers  crack,  heard  the  thun- 
ders roll,  saw  the  lightning,  saw  and  heard  the  people  screaming. 
Oh,  it  was  awful.     Then  ;i  telegram  came  to  any  the  shii)  w;is  lost. 


246  Autobiography  of 

Then  my  daughter  got  the  news,  then  I  saw  her  frantic  and  wild 
with  grief!  It  was  all  as  real  as  life,  and  my  head  seemed  to  swim, 
and  I  cried,  "  O,  Lord,  help  me,  I  give  my  child  to  Thee,  Thou 
canst  take  care  of  her." 

Then  I  thought  if  she  should  get  sick  — well,  the  quickest 
word  I  could  get  would  be  by  telegram,  and  if  I  should  get  to 
England,  and  they  should  send  a  telegram  that  she  was  sick,  I 
knew  what  that  would  mean,  it  would  mean  she  was  dead.  Oh, 
how  I  felt! 

Then  I  thought  it  alf  over,  and  said  to  myself,  "What  if  she 
were  to  be  sick  and  die,  and  I  could  not  be  with  her  to  do  for  her 
while  she  was  sick,  and  pray  and  help  her.  If  she  were  dead  there 
would  be  no  use  of  my  coming  home,  for  she  would  be  buried  before 
I  could  get  to  her,  and  then  there  would  be  no  need  of  my  coming." 
I  saw  it  all,  and  I  said,  "  Lord,  help  me,  I  will  obey  Thee." 

All  of  my  sisters  and  brothers  that  were  then  living,  came 
before  me,  one  by  one,  six  in  number,  and  I  saw  each  sink  and  die, 
and  I  went  to  the  funeral  of  each  of  them,  there  on  my  knees,  as 
real  as  ever  I  went  to  a  funeral  in  my  life,  and  I  said,  "Lord, 
help  me." 

"  But,"  I  said,  "to  stay  here  and  disobey  God—  I  can't  afford 
to  taKe  the  consequence,  I  would  rather  go  and  obey  God  than  to 
stay  here  and  know  that  I  disobeyed."     Then  this  hymn  came:— 

"Lord,  obediently  I'll  go. 
Gladly  leaving  all  below, 
Only  Thou  my  leader  be. 
And  I  still  will  follow  Thee." 

Then  there  came  such  a  flood  of  light  and  sweet  peace  that 
filled  me  with  joy  and  gladness,  and  I  sang  and  praised  the  Lord, 
for  I  felt  He  had  dealt  bountifully  with  me  in  great  mercy. 

In  the  course  of  a  week  or  so  I  went  to  see  Miss  Price  off.  She 
sailed  by  one  of  the  beautiful  ships  of  the  White  Star  Line.  It 
was  like  a  floating  palace.  I  had  never  seen  anything  like  it  on 
water;  it  was  magnificent.  I  thought  what  a  mistake  I  have 
made.  "Oh,  Lord,  you  may  trust  me,  T  will  go  alone  if  you  will 
give  me  another  chance."     So  I  went  home. 

A  week  or  two  later  I  had  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Mary  C.  Johnson, 
saying,  "Mr.  Johnson  and  I  expect  to  sail  for  England  such  a  day 
in  May,  and  would  be  glad  to  take  you  under  our  wing." 


Amanda  Smith.  347 

"Well."  I  thought.  ••  llii.s  is  \<ry  nice.  Mrs.  Johnson  is  siuh 
a  nice  hidy,  and  she  and  Mr.  .lohn.son  hav«'  always  been  bo  kind  to 
nif,  and  1  don't  know  of  anyone  I  woiihl  rathrr  go  with  than  with 
iht'm." 

From  tile  datf  t»f  the  h-td-r  I  saw  it  would  only  give  me  a  liltlc 
over  a  wiH'k  to  gt'l  rt'ady  and  I  could  not  do  it;  then  I  got  down  on 
my  knees  and  spread  the  letter  on  a  chair  and  said,  "  Lord,  Thou 
kiiow«'St  I  will  be  true  and  go  alone,  but  I  can't  get  ready  and  go 
with  Mrs.  Johnson,  though  I  would  so  like  to  do  so.  I  want  to  go 
to  Baltimore  and  see  Mazie,  and  tell  her  about  it;"  and  then  I 
prayed  the  Lord  to  quiet  her  and  prepare  her  so  she  could  not  feel 
she  could  not  let  me  go,  and  He  did  it,  praise  His  name! 

I  wanted  to  go  and  see  my  brother  that  I  had  not  seen  in  thirty 
.\e;irs;  he  was  my  oldest  brother,  living  in  York,  Pennsylvania; 
;;nd  a  younger  brother  I  had  seen  a  few  months  before;  he  liv«'d  in 
Tonawanda,  but  my  brother  William  Tolbert  I  had  not  seen  in 
thirty  y(>ars:  so  I  said  it  is  all  right.  I  will  write  and  tell  Mrs. 
.lohnson  to  write  me  when  she  gets  to  England  and  tell  me  how 
things  look. 

Some  time  before,  I  was  in  Boston  at  Mr.  Moody's  meeting;  it 
was  the  last  week  of  his  meetings.  There  Mrs.  Johnson  told  me 
that  she  had  a  deep  conviction  that  the  Lord  had  a  work  for  me 
in  Great  Britain,  but  I  gave  no  thought  to  it,  so  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Johnson  wer»'  off  in  a  few  weeks.  As  soon  as  she  got  to  England 
she  wrote  me  and  told  me  of  the  Keswick  Convention,  which 
answers  to  one  of  our  holiness  camp  meetings  in  this  country,  but 
there  the  phraseology  is  changed  a  little,  and  they  call  it  a  con- 
vention for  the  deepening  of  spiritual  life.  This  meeting  was 
begun  by  that  good  man,  R.  P.  Smith,  years  ago,  and  they  are 
held  every  year.  God  certainly  blest  him  in  starting  this  conven- 
tion, if  nothing  else  was  accomplished. 

Numerous  other  meetings  all  over  the  United  Kingdom  have 
been  productive  of  marvelous  good,  the  record  of  which  is  in 
eternity,  only. 

A  sad  night  for  me.  I  think  if  Satan  ever  did  have  anything 
to  do  with  mosquitoes  he  certainly  had  that  night.  Sunday  was 
another  hot  day;  the  heat  was  something  fearful.  I  walked  to 
and  from  church,  about  five  miles' distance,  I  think,  but  it  .seemed 
much  longer  becau.se  of  the  intense  heat. 

**Well,"  I  said,  "  1  will  not  go  out  this  evening."    So  1  went  up 


248  Autobiography  of 

to  my  room  and  lay  clown  and  trifd  to  rest;  but  hfre  the  mos- 
quitoes and  flies  soomod  to  join  together.  Oh,  T  felt  I  should  go 
wild.  I  tried  to  pray,  but,  Oh,  the  poisonous  mosquitoes  did 
nothing  but  sing,  first  in  one  ear  and  then  the  other,  then  a  sharp 
nip. 

"Oh,  dear,  I  can't  stand  it."  So  up  I  got.  I  said,  *'  It  is  too 
far  to  go  down  to  Bethel  Chuch  to-night,  I  will  go  into  this  white 
Methodist  Church." 

I  was  so  wearied,  I  said,  "Lord,  do  help  me."  When  I  went 
downstairs  my  aunt  said  to  me,  "Where  are  you  going?  " 

"To  church." 

"I  thought  you  said  you  were  not  going  out  again." 

"Yes,  but  I  am  going  into  this  white  Methodist  Church,  on 
Exeter  street." 

She  was  surprised. 

"We  never  go  to  the  white  people's  church  here.  I  would 
laugh  if  they  put  you  out." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "they  will  have  it  to  do  to-night  for  I  am 
going." 

I  was  glad  she  did  not  want  to  go,  for  her  skin  was  very  thin, 
and  I  thought  if  there  was  any  unpleasantness  I  could  bear  it 
better  than  she  could;  so  out  I  went,  a  half  an  hour  before  the 
time.  The  church  was  beautiful;  the  lights  were  burning  dimly 
and  it  was  so  cool  and  quiet.  The  sexton  was  very  pleasant  and 
spoke  to  me,  but  did  not  tell  me  to  go  into  the  gallery— the  custom 
used  to  be  where  colored  people  went  to  church  they  went  into  the 
gallery — so,  as  he  said  nothing,  I  walked  in  and  went  three  or  four 
pews  from  the  door. 

"  If  they  put  me  out,"  I  said,  "  I  will  have  a  good  strut,  and 
everybody  can  see  me." 

AVell,  in  the  quiet  I  began  to  think  and  pray.  Somehow,  I 
felt  the  Lord  had  sent  me  there  to  teach  me  some  lesson,  and  I 
said,  "  Lord,  what  is  it  that  Thou  wantest  me  to  learn,  for  surely 
Thou  dost  mean  something  by  all  this?"  So  there  I  sat,  praying 
earnestly. 

By  and  by,  the  people  began  to  gather,  then  two  very  nicely 
dressed  ladies  walked  in  and  stood  at  my  pew.  I  turned  and  looked 
them  squarely  in  the  face  so  they  could  see  I  was  of  the  royal 
black,  but  they  looked  pleasant,  so  I  arose  and  they  passed  in. 
There  were  plenty  of  vacant  pews  on  the  opposite  side  and  further 


Amanda  Smith.  349 

ahfiitl.      I  (ioift    know  \vh\  I  lu\  |in  r.iTi  (1   that   dtif  \mlrss  forihi- 
peculiar  fascination  that  sfcnis  to  ^'atht-r  about  royally! 

After  a  while  the  minister  came  in,  the  li^'hts  were  turned  up. 
Oh,  how  pretty  it  was,  and  the  minister  passed  up  into  tiie  i(uli)it 
and  prayed,  then  announced  the  hymn.  They  san^',  then  a  very 
earnest  prayer,  and  all  the  usual  preliminaries.  All  this  time  I 
prayed  the  Lord  to  teach  me  the  lesson  lie  wanted  me  to  learn. 
When  the  minister  arose  and  announced  his  text,  he  said:  "My 
te.xl  will  be  found  in  Philippians  4:10,  'My  God  shall  supply  all  of 
your  net>d  accordin*,'  to  Ilis  riches  in  plory  by  Christ  Jesus;'  "  and 
the  Spirit  said  to  me  clearly,  "That  is  the  lesson  foryoti,"  and 
the  .  nii)hasis  seemed  to  be  on  the  need,  "My  God  shall  supply  all 
your  need,"  and  I  saw  it,  what  it  all  meant. 

After  I  went  home  from  church,  in  Baltimore,  my  aunt  said 
to  me,  "  Well,  how  did  you  make  out?  " 

"The  Lord  has  taught  me  the  lesson  He  wanted  I  should 
learn,"  I  replied.     "  I  am  so  glad  I  went." 

When  1  saw  how  near  I  came  to  breaking  my  covenant  with 
God.  I  was  alarmed;  I  slept  very  little  that  ni^^ht. 

Next  morning  I  was  up  betimes  and  was  otf  to  the  train. 
They  said  it  was  the  nine-thirty  that  left  Baltimore.  Th«'y  said 
it  was  the  lightning  express;  its  destination  was  Y(jrk,  Pennsyl- 
vania. It  made  but  two  stops,  at  Wilmington,  Philadeli)hia,  and 
York.  I  felt  I  never  wanted  to  go  in  that  train  again.  Oh,  it  was 
so  swift,  as  I  looked  out  of  the  window  it  seemed  to  me  the  trees 
and  posts  would  cut  my  eyes  out,  the  speed  was  something  fearful. 
I  held  on  to  myself,  and  said,  "Lord,  if  Thou  wilt  help  me  I  will 
never  disobey  again." 

I  got  to  York,  spent  the  night  with  my  brother,  next  day  held 
a  meeting  at  one  o'clock  in  the  Methodist  Church,  and  left  at  half- 
past  two  for  Philadelphia,  got  home,  went  out  and  bought  my 
trunk  and  packed  it,  and  at  seven  r.  m.  I  locked  my  door  and 
droi)i)ed  my  key  in  the  letter  box  and  started  for  Horton  street  to 
my  friend's,  Mrs.  Kenney.  I  met  Mrs.  B.  and  told  her  I  was  going 
to  England  to  be  gone  three  months,  and  I  wanted  her  to  kx)k  after 
my  house  till  I  came  back. 

"All  right,"  she  said. 

I  bade  her  good-bye,  and  so  passed  on.  The  next  morninjr. 
Wednesday,  at  eight  o'clock,  I  went  on  board  the  steamer  "Ohio." 
Captain   Morris  in  command.     He  was  a  perfect  gi-ntleman  and 


250  Autobiography  of 

very  kind  tc  me.  Through  my  dear  friend,  Mrs.  Kenney,  I  had 
got  my  ticket  all  right,  seventy  dollars,  first  class,  of  course. 

There  were  quite  a  number  of  aristocratic  passengers,  and  I, 
being  a  colored  woman  and  alone,  there  was  quite  a  little  inquiry 
who  I  was,  what  I  was  going  to  England  for,  etc.  I  must  say  1 
did  feel  somewhat  embarrassed.  Several  of  the  passengers  asked 
me  if  I  had  ever  been  in  England. 

"No,"  I  said. 

"Are  you  going  on  business?  " 

"No,  not  special." 

"  Do  you  expect  friends  to  meei  you?  " 

"Well,  no." 

Then  such  a  critical  smile  and  remark.  They  would  go  away 
and  would  talk  it  over  with  two  or  more  others  and  pass  com- 
ments, and  after  a  while  another  would  come  and  put  the  same 
question  in  another  form. 

"You  are  going  to  Paris,  I  suppose?" 

"  No,  I  don't  expect  to  go  to  Paris." 

"I  suppose  you  are  going  to  join  the  Jubilee  Singers.  No 
"doubt,  you  find  this  an  expensive  passage,  Mrs.  Smith?  " 

"  Yes,  seventy  dollars  was  what  I  paid  for  my  passage." 

"You  have  friends  that  will  meet  you  in  England?  " 

"Well,  no,  I  don't  know  that  anyone  will  meet  me." 

Then  I  would  tell  them  of  my  friend,  Mrs.  Mary  C.  Johnson, 
and  Miss  Price,  and  how  it  all  came  about,  and  they  would  seem 
to  be  so  astonished  to  think  I  would  be  such  a  fool  as  to  go  to 
England  on  such  a  testimony.  An  old  Quaker  gentleman  was  the 
only  one  that  really  seemed  to  know  about  the  leading  of  the 
Spirit,  and  he  spoke  for  me  on  one  or  two  occasions.  Some  of  the 
ladies  remarked  that  I  should  have  gone  steerage,  and  it  would 
not  have  cost  me  so  much. 

They  didn't  know  but  I  was  a  suspicious  being  of  some  kind, 
so  this  worried  me  a  little,  and  one  day  I  went  into  my  cabin  and 
got  down  on  my  knees,  and  said,  "  Now,  Lord,  these  people  ask  me 
so  many  questions.  If  I  tell  them  that  Thou  hast  sent  me  to 
England,  they  don't  understand  it;  and  now.  Lord,  don't  let  them 
ask  me  any  more  questions.  Stop  them;  take  the  curiosity  out  of 
them;  make  them  let  me  alone,  for  Jesus'  sake.    Amen." 

T  got  up  and  went  on  deck,  and  not  a  soul  from  that  hour 
asked  me  any  more  questions,  not  one  the  whole  voyage.  "If  ye 
shall  ask  anything  in  My  name,  I  will  do  it." 


Amanda  Smith.  o^j 

"Arr  wi'  wrak  and  heavy  ladrn, 
Cunibrr.'a  with  a  load  of  car.', 
Precious  Saviour,  still  our  refu^'i', 

Take  it  to  th.'  Lord  in  prayer"*    Amm. 
We  were  ull  pretty  sick  the  first  two  days.     The  third  <lav  one 
of  the  waiters,  a  very  nice,  kind  ia<l.  help.-d  me  on  deck.      W  ^ 
the^captain  saw  m.  he  came  to  me.  and  said.  ^^  How  are  you.  ^Us 

"I  am  U'fUun  bi-ttcr,  captain,  thank  jou." 
Th.n  lu.  t,K,k  as,.at  by  m..,  and  said,  •'Mrs,  Smith,  have  you 
had  proper  treatment?  "  ■'   " 

"Yes,  captain,  tliankyou." 

.hie".!'*"',"'  ""  ^■°"  '"''"  ""^  unpleasantness  from  any  one  on 
this  ship,  I  want  you  to  report  to  me." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  I  will  do  so." 

kinrt^llo^  'r"  ""  ™'"'""""  '°  •""'<<••  The  stewardess  was  very 
kind  which  any  one  could  not  help  appreciating  when  travelZ 
on  Shipboard.  She  would  bring  my  lunch  or  meals  u  ,  on  d  k 
just  as  she  d,d  the  others,  and  I  had  many  pleasant  talks  with  her' 
1  he  first  Sunday  wc  were  out  nearly  all  the  passeng.rs  were 
la.d  up  by  seasickness.     Out  of  the  twenty  or  more  la.lv  pas^en- 

but  the  following  Sunday  we  were  all  well  and  up  and  out. 

Ihe  Quaker  gentleman  and  his  .son  w.-re  the  onlv  two  that 
ea  ly  seemed  ,o  take  much  to  me,  outside  the  curiou^  quest  o 

t'thlTbl     1,  •'■'''■" ''^•^'•■"'''■'"""''""  """^-  ">atsat'ne.xtr 
at  the    able -they    were   from    Philadelphia,- were  both   v,.rv 

Z7ZT  """"' " ''"' "'"''"" '"'  ■"^■-  ='""  "''^  '  "P"--"^-' 

The  Quaker  gentleman  and  his  .son  were  very  much  interested 

in  me  when  they  learned  1  was,  as  the  Friends  sav,  -.  preacher 

woman."     The  old   gentleman  told  me  much   abi,  t  the  usages 

among    he  Society  of  Friends.     He  said  the  Frie^.ds  had  alway 

e^  r        ^f"    ""P"'"f  f""""^  vn:chi„g.  and  he  said  he  was 

know  ,h   1    "        T       '  """  ""■"  ""'^  '■'■"  '^^•f"'^-  ""-^  '"■  Ji'l  »«' 
know  that  colored  women  ever  worked  in  that  sphere.    He  encour- 

tfin    T'  ;'?",',"'"    ""   *"  ^"  '°'""''-       Then  he  spoke  to  the  cap- 

tain  about  holding  services. 

thp  J^  \7  r?  u'' ''"''"''' '"  ^^'^'■^'  ""^'  "^  "'•-'^•'''■•'  -•''""••^' 

them.     Most  of  the  passengers  were   Episcopalians  and  Presby- 


252  Autobiography  of 

terians,  all  very  nice,  but  very  aristocratic,  so  these  gentlemen 
came  and  asked  me  if  I  would  take  the  service.  I  told  them  I 
would  if  the  captain  thought  it  would  be  agreeable.  I  did  not 
want  to  do  anything  that  would  not  be  perfectly  agreeable  to  all. 
Then  they  went  around  and  inquired,  and  everybody  was  willing. 
They  thought,  anything  to  break  the  monotony  and  have  a  novel 
entertainment. 

The  captain  came  to  me  himself  and  said  he  would  be  very 
glad  if  I  would  take  the  service.  He  would  have  the  saloon 
arranged.  I  told  him  i  would  do  so  if  he  thought  it  would  be 
best.  He  assured  me  that  It  would  be  all  right,  so  everything 
was  arranged.  First  bell  was  rung;  it  did  seem  real  churchified! 
How  the  smiles  and  whispers  went  around  among  the  passengers, 
"  The  colored  woman  is  going  to  preach  "  All  were  invited  down 
into  the  saloon,  then  the  second  bell  was  rung.  Many  of  the  second 
cabin  and  some  of  the  steerage  passengers  came  in.  Those  from 
the  steerage  were  most,  of  them  Romanists,  but  all  behaved  rever- 
ently except  one  or  two  poor,  ignorant  persons. 

The  Episcopal  prayer  and  hymn  books  were  placed  all  around 
the  long  tables,  and  I  did  not  know  a  bit  how  to  proceed  with  that 
service,  so  I  turned  to  my  Quaker  friend,  for  he  and  his  son  stood 
by  me  ready  to  assist  in  anything  but  to  sing  or  pray,  and  he  spoke 
to  the  captain,  who  said  I  should  go  on  in  my  own  way.  So  I  gave 
out  a  hymn  that  was  familiar,  and  they  all  joined  as  I  started  the 
tune.  If  I  had  dared  to  ask  some  one  to  pray  I  would,  but  if  I  had 
it  would  only  have  been  an  embarrassment  to  any  one  but  an  old 
time  Methodist,  so  I  looked  to  God  for  strength  and  prayed  myself, 
then  I  sang  from  the  Winnowed  Hymns  that  beautiful  song, 
••  Jesus  of  Nazareth  Passeth  By. " 

The  Lord  blest  the  singing  and  it  captured  their  attention,  and 
before  I  got  through  I  saw  a  number  of  them  were  touched,  but 
how  I  prayed  that  morning  for  Divine  help,  and  it  surely  came. 

I  opened  my  Bible  at  the  14th  chapter  of  John,  and  said,  "I 
will  not  preach,  but  I  want  to  talk  a  little  from  this  dear  old 
chapter,"  so  I  talked  on  for  over  half  an  hour  with  perfect  liberty 
and  freedom.  Then  I  prayed,  and  as  I  spoke  to  the  Lord  the  sev- 
eral passengers  came  before  me,  those  that  were  sick,  and  friends 
left  behind,  the  captain  and  officers  that  had  been  so  kind,  and  so 
on,  as  the  Spirit  prompted  the  prayer,  so  I  prayed.  When  I  got 
through  we  sang  the  Doxology. 


Amanda  Smith.  253 

Oh,  how  it  changed  the  spirit  of  the  passengers.  Ladies  and 
gentlem»>n  that  hud  not  even  said  good  morning  to  m«'  befon-. 
came  to  mo  and  thanked  me  for  what  I  said,  and  especially  for 
the  prayer.  They  shook  hands  and  were  so  interested,  and  said. 
"  Lord  bless  you." 

There  was  a  great  swell  doctor  who  b«'Iong«'d  to  the  ITnilt-d 
States  Navy  —  he  and  his  wife  and  two  children.  His  wife  and 
children  were  very  nice,  but  from  the  remarks  of  some  of  the 
passengers  he  seemed  to  act  as  though  he  thought  the  passengers 
on  that  steamer  ought  to  feel  they  were  highly  honored  tliat  so 
great  a  passenger  as  he,  doctor  in  the  United  States  Navy,  was 
aboard  that  ship. 

The  two  little  girls  were  sweet  little  things,  aged,  I  should 
think,  about  nine  and  six  years;  they  seemed  to  take  quite  a  fancy 
to  me.  They  had  no  nurse  with  them,  so  I  would  amuse  them, 
and  we  had  a  pleasant  time,  but  whenever  the  doctor  was  around 
he  would  call  them  away.  He  would  seem  to  feel  so  uncomfort- 
able that  they  should  be  so  stupid  as  to  notice  a  black  woman.  I 
used  to  smile  as  I  would  see  his  maneuvers. 

When  I  got  to  Liverpool  I  knew  nothing  about  the  Custom 
House.  All  the  ladies  had  gentlemen  to  look  after  their  baggage, 
and  as  there  is  alwas  a  commotion  when  we  get  in,  so  I  said, 
"  Lord,  I  have  no  one  to  look  after  my  baggage  or  do  anything  for 
me,  now  help  me  and  keep  me  quiet,  and  just  help  me  through 
with  everything." 

The  good  doctor  seemed  to  take  special  pains  to  hinder  me. 
He  had  a  good  deal  of  baggage  to  be  examined,  I  had  but  one 
trunk,  he  had  three  officers.  T  waited;  then  1  saw  a  chance,  and 
I  just  spoke  to  one  of  the  men,  and  pointed  out  my  trunk;  just 
then  the  good  doctor  stepped  right  in  front  of  me,  clapped  the  man 
on  the  arm,  took  him  away  so  roughly,  so  I  waited  till  all  were 
pretty  well  through.  The  doctor  got  in  his  cab  and  was  off.  Then 
the  man  turned  to  me  and  said,  "  Madame,  tliis  is  your  trunk?  " 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  said. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  no  tobacco  nor  cigars,  nor  books?  " 

"No,  no,"  was  my  reply. 

"Well,  all  right,  where  do  you  want  to  go?" 

"Lime  Street  Station,  sir." 

He  whistled  for  a  cab,  I  locked  my  trunk,  and  a  moment  more 
I  was  off. 


354  AUTOBIOGKAPHY   OF    AmAND/»l   SmITH. 

My  cab  ovortook  and  passed  the  good  doctor.  As  I  passed  I 
looked  out  and  waved  .ny  hand  with  a  polite  bow  and  rolled  by, 
leaving  the  doctor  behind,  and  instead  of  smiling  like  a  good  fellow 
and  bidding  me  God  speed,  he  simply  frowned  and  seemed  to  bite 
his  lip.     I  have  never  seen  him  since,  poor  fellow! 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LIME   STREET  STATION,  LIVERPOOL,  ENGLAND,  AND  THE   RECEPTION 
I    MET   WITH    THERE  —  PAGES    FROM    MY   DIARY. 

1  had  to  wait  about  two  hours.  I  went  to  Keswick,  where  the 
big  Conference  is  held  ev«ry  summer.  Cannon  Battersby  was  the 
rector  of  St.  John's  Church,  and  was  President  of  the  Convention. 
A  holy  man  of  God,  he  was.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Johnson  were  there. 
They  had  spoken  of  me,  so  that  everyone  seemed  to  be  expecting  me. 

Just  before  we  got  to  Keswick  I  had  to  change  cars  and  wait 
about  an  hour.  The  day  was  beautiful,  and  this  was  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  I  was  a  curiosity.  How  the  people  did 
look  at  me.  I  thought  I  would  buy  me  a  newspaper,  and  then 
they  wouldn't  look  at  me  so  much,  but,  lo  and  behold,  that  only 
made  it  worse.  They  seemed  to  wonder  what  in  the  world  I  was 
going  to  do  with  a  newspaper.  Then  I  walked  up  and  down,  then 
they  walked  up  and  down,  as  though  they  wondered  what  I  was 
walking  up  and  down  for.  They  were  very  respectful;  they  did 
not  laugh  and  make  remarks  like  they  would  have  done  in  this 
country,  but  they  seemed  to  look  as  though  they  pitied  me.  \iy 
and  by  the  train  came  in,  and  two  ladies  got  out  and  one  of  them 
walked  up  to  me  and  said,  "Why,  Amanda  Smith." 

"Well,"  I  thought,  "who  in  the  world  here  knows  me."  I 
said,  "Yes,  madam,  that  is  my  name;  "  and  holding  on  to  my 
hand,  she  said,  laughingly,  "  Don't  you  know  me?" 

"  I  know  your  face,  madam,  but  cannot  place  you." 

She  still  laughed  and  said,  "  Look  at  me." 

"Oh,  madam,  do  please  tell  me  who  you  are." 

"You  held  meetings  with  me  at  Sea  Clilf,  and  New  York. 
You  S|x>ke  at  a  ladies'  meeting  in  New  York  that  1  held  once  at 
Dr.  C.'s  church  one  afternoon." 

No,  1  could  not  think.  Then  she  said,  "  You  don't  know  Mrs. 
Dr.  Bordmau." 

(255) 


256  Autobiography  op 

•'  Oh,  dear  Mrs.  Bordman,  is  it  you,  the  joy  of  my  heart? ' 

"  Where  are  you  going?  "  she  asked. 

**To  Keswick  Convention." 

••Why,  that  is  just  where  we  are  going." 

Then  she  introduced  me  to  the  lady  that  was  with  her  and  ■•r^ 
had  a  beautiful  time  and  pleasant  journey  to  Keswick. 

The  house  where  Mrs.  B.  and  her  friend  had  lodged  was  full, 
but  they  said  they  thought  to  get  me  a  place  near  by. 

Of  course  no  one  knew  I  was  really  coming,  I  had  got  Mrs. 
Johnson's  letter  telling  me  all  about  how  to  come,  but  I  had  no 
time  to  write  and  tell  her  I  had  decided  to  do  so,  so,  in  a  little 
while  after  we  had  got  to  the  house,  dear  Dr.  Bordman  went  to 
see  about  my  lodgings.  It  was  in  St.  John's  Lane.  The  landlady 
told  him  she  could  accommodate  me  for  the  night,  but  the  next 
day  she  was  expecting  two  young  men  who  had  engaged  the  rooms. 
So  I  went  off  to  my  lodgings. 

The  lady  was  a  very  pleasant  old  lady,  a  widow.  She  was  quite 
alone,  but  had  such  a  pretty  home,  like  so  many  one  sees  in 
England.  The  room  was  large;  everything  was  elegant  and  rich, 
but  old-fashione'd;  high  bedstead,  with  heavy  curtains  around.  I 
was  glad  when  the  night  came,  to  go  to  bed.  I  had  never  been  so 
long  in  such  close  quarters  as  in  the  cabin  on  the  steamer,  and  I 
longed  to  have  a  good,  free  time  without  shaking.  It  was  July, 
dreadfully  hot  here  in  America,  but  so  cool  in  England  that  I  could 
sleep  with  the  windows  closed  and  under  a  blanket. 

"My!  I  never  knew  the  luxury  of  an  English  feather-bed  till 
that  night.  Oh,  it  was  so  elegant,  a  great  big  English  feather-bed, 
I  had  never  seen  anything  like  it,  though  I  had  seen  many  a  large 
feather  bed  here  in  America.  I  lay  all  over  it.  I  said,  "  I  want 
to  get  the  benefit  of  this  feather-bed,  I  will  only  have  it  for  one 
night." 

My!  what  a  nice  sleep  I  had;  how  refreshed  and  rested  I  was 
the  next  morning;  how  full  of  praise  my  heart  was  to  God  for  His 
kindness  in  bringing  me  safely  to  England  and  giving  me  such  a 
token  of  His  favor  among  the  people  that  received  me;  I  shall 
never  forget  it. 

I  got  up  next  morning,  did  up  my  room,  and  was  to  go  to  Mrs. 
Bordman's  to  have  my  breakfast  with  them.  Before  going  out  I 
thought  to  myself  how  I  should  like  to  stay  here;  it  just  seems 
like  as  if  this  is  the  place  the  Lord  wants  me  to  be,  but  the  lady 


Amanda  Smith.  257 

has  said  she  could  accommodate  me  only  for  the  night,  and  of 
course  I  can't  ask  her  when  she  has  said  she  exi>ects  the  youn^ 
men.  Then  I  got  down  on  my  knees  and  said  my  prayers,  and  1 
said,  "Now,  Lord,  this  seems  like  the  very  place  that  Thou  dost 
want  me  to  stay;  now,  Thou  canst  manage  so  that  I  can  stay  here, 
and  if  it  really  is  Thy  will,  put  it  in  the  lady's  h«'art  when  I  go 
down  stairs  to  tell  me  I  can  stay.  I  don't  want  to  ask  her.  She 
has  been  so  kind,  and  I  am  a  stranger;  but,  Lord,  I  belii-ve  that 
Thou  canst  manage  it  for  me;  surely  Thou  canst  if  it  is  Thy  will, 
so  I  leave  it  with  Thee.     Amen." 

Somehow,  my  lu'art  was  so  quiet  and  full  of  peace,  I  felt  the 
Lord  would  do  it,  and  yet  it  seemed  so  strange  that  He  should.  I 
took  my  bag  in  my  hand  and  went  down.  Wh<n  I  got  down  stairs 
I  met  the  lady.  She  bade  me  got)d  morning  and  asked  me  how  I 
slept.  I  told  her,  beautifully;  I  was  so  refreshed  from  the  com- 
fortable night's  sleep.  Then  she  said  to  me,  *'  I  have  just  had  a 
telegram  from  one  of  the  young  men  that  was  to  come,  and  he  has 
met  with  a  friend  he  has  ncttseeu  for  a  long  time,  so  he  is  going  to 
stay  with  him,  and  the  other  young  man  is  going  with  a  friend  of 
his;  so  the  room  will  be  vacant  and  you  can  stay." 

Oh,  I  came  near  shouting  right  out,  but  I  knew  if  I  did  she 
would  think  I  was  wild,  So  I  did  say,  praise  the  Lord;  but  I  wanted 
to  dance  for  joy.  Oh,  how  wonderfully  God  provided  for  me.  I 
went  down  and  told  Mrs.  Bordman,  and  we  had  a  good  time 
praising  tht   Lord  together. 

The  meeting  was  held  in  a  big  tent  in  an  open  lot.  There 
were  crowds  of  poople.  As  I  walked  down  to  the  tent  and  heard 
the  singing,  it  all  seemed  very  much  like  home.  I  was  introduced 
by  Mrs.  J.  to  Canon  Battersby.  No  one  acted  as  though  I  was  a 
black  woman,  I  don't  suppose  they  would  have  treated  Mrs. 
President  of  the  United  States  with  more  Christian  courtesy  and 
Cordiality  than  they  did  me.  After  the  preaching  Service  was  over  I 
was  introduced  by  Canon  Battersby,  and  was  asked  to  lead  the  after 
meeting.  There  were  clergym»'n  and  workers  all  around,  and  I 
felt  at  first  a  little  awkward.  I  thought  I  would  never  get  hold  of 
the  way  they  did  things;  and  they  told  me  just  to  go  right  on  in 
my  own  way,  just  as  I  was  accustomed  to  do  in  America,  and  they 
would  stand  by  and  assist  in  anything  I  wished  them  to  do. 

So  after  talking  awhile,  I  asked  those  who  wanted  per.«U)nal 
conversion  and  prayer  to  stand,  and  a  great  number  arose  all  over 


258  Autobiography  op 

the  tent.  I  was  a  little  surprised,  but  I  kept  looking  to  the  Lord; 
then  I  said  to  the  workers  and  clergymen,  "  Now,  there  is  a  great 
work  to  do;  these  souls  must  be  spoken  to,  helped  and  prayed  with. 
I  want  that  all  of  you  should  go  around  and  speak  to  them." 
Then  I  said,  "  If  there  are  those  who  would  like  to  come  forward 
and  kneel  here,  they  may  do  so,"  though  I  saw  that  that  was  not 
the  custom. 

A  few  came  to  the  front,  and  in  a  moment  the  clergymen  and 
workers  were  all  out  in  the  congregation  kneeling  and  praying 
with  the  seekers.  By  and  by  one  would  call  out,  "Mrs.  Smith, 
here  is  a  soul  that  has  found  peace  in  believing  in  Jesus.'* 

That  one  would  stand  up  and  say  a  word,  and  then  an- 
other would  call  out,  "And  here  is  another  who  wants  to  say  a 
word,"  another  and  another  would  call  out  "Here's  another,"  so 
I  praised  the  Lord;  and  I  remember  how  I  was  taken  back,  for  I 
struck  in  to  sing  the  old  Coronation  the  way  we  sang  it  in 
America,  "All  Hail  the  Power  of  Jesus'  Name,"  but  no  one 
joined,  and  I  thought  it  was  so  strange.  I  went  on  with  the  first 
verse.  I  knew  how  it  would  have  rung  out  at  home,  but  I  could 
not  understand  why  they  didn't  sing;  surely  they  must  know  it. 
They  did,  but  the  tune  they  sing  in  England  is  entirely  different 
from  that  which  is  sung  here. 

There  was  a  good  Wesleyan  brother  that  was  speaking  to 
those  that  were  forward,  and  I  turned  to  him  and  said,  "Why 
don't  they  sing?  "  He  says,  "  They  dont  know  the  tune."  Then 
I  said,  "You  start  it  to  the  tune  they  all  know."     And  so  he  did. 

My!  how  they  sung  it!  And  I  learned  that  tune,  though. I  did 
not  like  it  at  first;  but  now  I  do.  Of  course  it  don't  beat  the 
American  tune,  but  still  it  is  grand.     Praise  the  Lord. 

I  don't  know  just  the  number  that  professed  to  receive  peace 
that  night,  but  I  know  it  was  a  goodly  number.  To  God  be  all 
the  glory.     That  was  my  first  work  in  England. 

A  few  days  later  on  I  met  some  ladies  from  Liverpool  who 
were  members  of  Christ's  Church,  Everton,  where  Rev.  Hay 
Adken  was  formerly  rector.  They  had  a  large  mothers'  meeting. 
This  lady,  Mrs.  Stavely,  wanted  to  know  if  I  would  come  to  Liv- 
erpool and  hold  some  meetings.  I  told  her  I  would  see  about  it 
and  let  her  know  later  on.  She  was  very  pleasant,  and  I  got  to 
know  her  afterwards  very  well.  She  is  among  the  dearest  friends 
r have  in  England  to-day.     Her  house  is  one  of  my  homes.     She 


Amanda  Smith.  259 

received  the  blessing  of  full  salvation  when  R«*v.  John  Inskip  and 
MacDonald  were  in  England  atul  went  on  their  tour  around  the 
world. 

Then  Mrs.  Johnson  introduced  me  to  a  Mrs.  Stephen  Menzes, 
of  Eggleston  Hills,  just  out  of  Liverpool.  She  is  a  wonderful  lad\ , 
does  a  marvelous  work  for  the  Young  Women's  Christian  A.ssocia- 
tion,  and  was  its  first  organizer,  I  think.  She  invited  Mrs. 
Johnson  and  some  other  friends  to  the  hotel  to  dine,  and  invited 
me  to  meet  these  friends.  They  were  very  much  interested  to 
know  my  history  and  birth —  if  I  was  a  slave,  etc. 

Then  Mrs.  Men/«'sarrang»'d  for  me  to  come  to  Eggleston  Hills. 
They  had  a  large  hull  and  did  great  work  among  the  laboring 
class. 

A  day  or  so  after  that  Canon  Hopkins  came  to  me  with  a 
letter  from  Lord  Mount  Temple,  of  Broadlands,  in  which  his 
lordship  invited  me  to  their  convention,  to  be  held  in  August  at 
Broadlands.  I  thanked  him  very  kindly,  of  course.  I  didn't  know 
who  Lord  Mount  Temple  was.  I  didn't  know  anything  about 
Broadlands.  Then  I  said,  "Oh,  I  have  heard  Mrs.  Johnson  and 
Mrs.  Bordman  speak  of  it;  I  suppose  they  are  all  going,  and  Miss 
Smiley." 

He  smiled  and  said,  "  You  are  invited,  Mrs.  Smith." 

I  knew  they  had  all  been  there,  so  I  thanked  him.  I  went 
home  and  told  Mrs.  Bordman  of  it,  and  she  was  very  kind,  but 
said  she  didn't  think  it  was  at  all  the  thing  for  me  to  go  to  this 
convention.  Well,  I  didn't  know.  I  knew  Mrs.  Bordman  was  a 
good  woman,  and  she  would  only  say  what  she  thought  would  be 
best  for  me.  She  said  the  doctrines  and  truths  that  were  taught 
there  were  rather  deep,  and  it  might  do  me  harm,  and  she  only 
wanted  to  shield  me. 

Well,  I  Could  not  understand  it.  I  went  upstairs  to  my  room, 
took  my  Bible,  got  on  my  knees  and  began  to  pray  the  Lord  to 
show  me  what  His  will  was  in  regard  to  it.  Clear  and  plain  as  my 
right  hand,  though  I  can't  explain,  but  God  showed  me  it  was 
right  I  should  go,  so  I  thought  no  more  of  it. 

Afterwards  I  told  Mrs.  Johnson.  Oh,  she  thought  it  was  dread- 
ful; surely  I  must  not  go  by  any  means.  I  prayed  on.  Ch*arerand 
clearer  it  came  I  was  to  go.  I  was  invited  to  a  Mr.  Brathwail's,  at 
Kendall,  a  very  wealthy  Quaker  gentleman.  Miss  Smiley  and  Mrs. 
Johnson  were  there  at  the  same  time. 


260  Autobiography  of 

One  day  MissS.  came  into  my  room  —  it  was  next  hers  —  and 
said  she  felt  impressed  to  come  and  warn  me  by  no  means  to  go  to 
Broadlands.  The  Lord  had  always  kept  me  so  simple,  and  she  had 
known  of  some  who  had  been  there  who  had  got  into  a  good  deal 
of  confusion  in  regard  to  these  deep  truths;  the  teaching  there  was 
so  deep.  Mrs.  Johnson  went  out  one  morning,  and  when  she  came 
back  she  said  she  had  word  from  Mrs.  Menzes  and  that  she  was 
looking  for  me,  and  that  I  must  surol}'  go;  anyhow,  it  wouldn't  do 
for  me  to  go  to  Broadlands,  she  was  quite  sure  the  Lord  didn't 
want  me  there. 

I  could  not  make  them  understand  it,  but  the~more  I  prajed 
about  it  the  clearer  it  was  to  my  mind.  Oh,  I  can't  understand 
why  they  should  hinder  me,  but  I  knew  they  did.  I  had  told  Mrs. 
Menzes  when  she  first  spoke  to  me,  that  I  had  been  spoken  to  about 
this  place,  but  that  I  could  give  four  days  before  I  went,  if  that 
would  do,  but  after  Mrs.  J.  came  back  a  telegram  came  to  me 
from  Mrs.  Menzes,  saying  that  they  would  expect  me  on  such  a 
train,  that  meetings.were  arranged,  so  I  went. 

Mrs.  Menzes  met  me  at  the  station  in  her  carriage.  To  my 
surprise,  the  first  thing  I  saw  were  large  placards  with  my  name 
on,  up  against  the  railway  station:  '•  Amanda  Smith,  the  converted 
slave  girl,  will  sing  and  hold  gospel  meetings  in  Victoria  Hall," 
giving  the  days  and  dates  which  I  saw  directly,  interfered  with 
the  time  I  was  to  go  to  Broadlands  Conference,  so  I  saw  I  was 
entirely  planned  out. 

I  said  to  Mrs.  Menzes,  "  I  have  promised  to  go  to  Broadlands 
Conference,  I  told  Mr.  Hopkins  that  I  would  go,  I  remember  that 
I  told  you  I  had." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "you  are  advertised  now  and  you  can't 
possibly  g>,  it  will  injure  your  influence  greatly  as  a  stranger, 
here  in  England.  We  think  a  great  deal  of  it  if  you  do  not  go  when 
you  are  advertised." 

Oh,  how  bad  I  felt.  I  was  greatly  tempted,  and  lelt  if  I  had 
had  the  money  I  would  like  to  come  home,  but  this  was  onlj'  a 
temptation,  though  I  didn't  get  to  Broadlands  that  year;  but  the 
next  year  I  did.  Lord  Mount  Temple  and  Lady  Beechman,  and  a 
number  of  others,  came  to  Mr.  Charlton's  East  End  Mission  one 
night  where  I  was  holding  services  and  invited  me  again  in  per- 
son, and  then,  through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Edwin  Clifford,  Esq., 
I  got  to  Broadlands,  according  to  the  will  of  the  Lord. 


Amanda  Smith.  361 

Oh,  how  He  blest  me,  aud,  I  believe,  made  me  a  blessing  to  the 
people.  I  shall  never  forget  the  kindness  of  his  Lordship  aiul  Lady 
Mount  Temple.  1  was  their  guest  in 'their  home.  Oh,  what  a 
home  it  was!  how  spacious,  a  regular  palace. 

When  I  went  into  dinner,  Lord  Mount  Temple  walked  up  to 
me  and  gave  me  his  arm,  and  saying,  "We  will  lead  the  way," 
took  me  into  dinner  and  seated  me  at  his  right,  and  there  I  was, 
amid  all  that  throng  of  English  dignitaries.  It  was  all  new  to  me, 
in  a  sense,  and  yet  I  neither  saw  nor  felt  anything  that  was  worth 
while  being  a  fool  over,  for  God  had  long  since  .savetl  me,  I  believe, 
from  foolish  pride. 

I  believe  it  now,  as  I  always  believed  it,  in  the  Book:  "  Pride 
goeth  before  destruction,  and  a  haughty  spirit  before  a  fall,"  and 
if  I  ever  prayed  for  God  to  save  me  from  anything,  it  was  from  the 
foolishness  of  pride.  Thank  God,  I  believe  he  does,  he  keeps  me 
saved. 

I  remember  one  morning  in  the  conservatory  where  the  morn- 
ing meeting  was  held.  Rev.  Mr.  Jukes  and  Mr.  Geo.  Mac  Donald 
gave  a  Bible  reading.  I  saw  nothing  strange  in  it,  it  was  beautiful 
to  me.  After  this  was  over  the  meeting  opened  for  those  to  testify 
who  had  received  any  special  blessing.  Mr.  E.  Clifford  and  I  had 
held  a  very  interesting  Gospel  meeting  on  the  evening  before,  so 
that  when  the  meeting  was  opened  for  testimony  there  were  a 
number  who  testified. 

I  felt  the  Lord  laid  it  on  me  to  give  a  bit  of  my  own  personal 
experience,  how  God  converted  and  sanctified  my  heart,  so  I  six)ke, 
and  the  power  of  the  Spirit  seemed  to  come  mightily  uiwn  all  the 
people.  Oh,  what  a  stir;  they  wept  and  sobbed,  and  one  woman 
was  so  baptized  that  she  cried  out  and  could  not  restrain  herself. 
How  the  Lord  helped  me  that  morning.  This  work  was  very  real 
in  many  hearts;  even  after  I  came  from  Africa  I  met  a  woman  in 
Liverpool  one  night  in  the  train,  who  said  to  me,  "  Do  you  remember 
the  morning  you  spoke  at  Broadlands  and  gave  your  experience?" 

"Yes." 

"  Do  you  remember  some  one  crying  out?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  that  was  I.  Oh,  God  filled  me  that  morn- 
ing and  I  have  never  gotten  over  it,  the  trials  have  been  severe, 
but.  Oh,  I  have  been  saved  and  kept  and  I  am  full  of  praise  to-day. 
I  am  glad  to  see  you,  praise  the  Lord." 


262  Autobiography  oj* 

Her  face  was  beaming  with  joy.  That  is  only  one  instance, 
I  don't  know  how  many  more,  but  God  does,  and  that  is  enough. 
Amen. 

I  met  with  some  things  that  were  a  little  strange,  but  they 
didn't  affect  me  any;  for  example:  One  morning  after  the  break- 
fast was  over,  and  after  the  prayer,  we  retired  to  the  drawing 
room.  Dr.  Moxey  and  several  others  were  in  a  very  interesting 
conversation  in  regard  to  advanced  views  of  spiritual  things.  One 
young  clergyman,  whose  name  I  don't  remember  now,  was  saying, 
that  somewhere  in  the  part  of  the  country  where  he  lived  he  and 
his  wife  had  attended  some  meetings  where  they  were  praying  for 
the  conversion  of  the  Devil.  Some  one  turned  to  me  and  said, 
"  What  do  you  think  of  that,  Mrs.  Smith?  " 

'^Well,"  I  said,  "anybody  that  wants  to  do  that  is  quite  wel- 
come as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  but  I  think  he  has  a  pretty  big  job 
on  hand." 

"Well,"  said  they,  "don't  you  see  what  a  good  thing  it  would 
be,  Mrs.  Smith,  if  only  the  Devil  could  be  converted;  you,  and  — 
referring  to  another  evangelist  that  was  presont  —  and  many  other 
persons  who  are  working  so  hard  to  get  people  saved,  wouldn't 
have  your  work  so  often  destroyed,  for  after  all  j'our  work,  he  often 
upsets  it  all." 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "I  guess  I  will  wait  and  see  how  you  all 
come  out." 

Now,  I  didn't  see  anything  in  that  that  was  so  mysterious. 
The  most  mystery  I  saw  about  it  was  that  people  should  spend 
time  in  such  foolishness,  when  there  is  so  much  they  might  do 
that  would  be  of  permanent  good. 

After  I  got  to  England,  the  first  money  tha*.  was  given  me, 
about  three  days  after,  was  five  pound  sterling  and  something 
over,  equal  to  about  twenty-five  dollars.  Some  ladies  at  Keswick, 
said  to  Mrs.  Johnson,  "Who  supports  Mrs.  Smith?"  Of  course 
they  didn't  tell  me  this,  but  they  asked  Mrs.  Johnson  all  about  it. 
She  told  them  that  I  just  trusted  the  Lord  to  supply  all  my  needs, 
and  so  it  went  around  quietly. 

Mrs.  J.  came  to  me  one  morning  and  said  to  me,  "  Amanda,  it 
is  wonderful  how  the  Lord  is  putting  it  into  the  hearts  of  the  peo- 
ple to  help  you  financially.  Several  have  come  to  me  and  put  in 
my  hand  money  for  you." 

I  thanked  her  verv  much. 


Amanda  Smith.  263 

"Several  ladies  have  said  they  would  hand  m«'  .soin.thin;:  this 
afternoon,  when  I  ^et  it  toj^ether  I  will  giv«'  it  to  you." 

So  wh«'n  sh«'  handed  it  to  me  it  was  the  amount  that  I  have 
spoken  of.  Then  I  saw  it  was  in  direct  answer  to  prayer,  as  I  had 
asked  the  Lord  on  my  way. 

"Lord,"  I  said,  "confirm  my  coming  to  England  by  putting 
it  into  the  hearts  of  the  i)e()ple  to  give  m«'  some  money  to  help  me 
after  I  get  there,  I  am  a  strang(  r,  no  one  knows  me  except  Mrs.  J.'' 

This  is  what  I  said  to  the  Lord  while  I  was  on  the  steamer, 
and,  now,  three  days  after  I  land,  this  is«the  result.  Surely  the 
Lord  is  good.  It  is  all  wonderful,  but  it  is  just  like  Ilim.  Blessed 
be  His  name. 

Friday,  Sept.  26th,  1878.  This  is  a  day  that  I  had  to  regret. 
I  had  been  invited  to  Lord  Mount  Temple's,  through  Rev.  Mr. 
Hopkins,  to  go  to  the  Broadlands  Conference.  Whf  n  I  told  it  to 
my  dear  American  fri'^nds  who  were  there,  they  thought  it  would 
not  do  for  me  to  go  at  all.  They  said  the  teaching  at  that  Confer- 
ence was  so  deep,  and  they  were  afraid  I  would  be  confused,  and 
it  would  not  be  good  for  me.  And  then,  besides,  for  one  like  me 
to  be  entertained  where  there  was  so  much  elegance  and  style,  it 
might  make  me  proud  and  turn  my  head.  Rut,  poor  things!  they 
didn't  know  that  I  had  always  been  used  to  a  good  deal  of  that, 
though  in  the  capacity  of  a  servant;  so  that  no  style  or  grandeur 
affected  me  at  all. 

But  notwithstanding  this  invitation  to  me  came  directly  from 
Lord  Mount  Temple's,  they  protested  against  my  going.  I  prayed 
about  it,  and  the  Lord  made  it  very  clear  to  me  that  He  wanted 
me  at  Broadlands.  But  as  I  was  a  stranger,  and  they  had  been  in 
England  longer  than  I  had,  I  yielded,  but  thought  quietly  in  my 
mind  that  I  would  go  anyhow. 

But  they  so  arranged  it  that  I  was  to  go  to  St.  Helens,  and 
take  some  meetings  at  Victoria  Hall,  at  Mrs.  Menzes'.  And  when 
I  got  there  they  had  advertised  me  beyond  the  date  when  I  was  to 
go  to  Broadlands.  And  though  I  told  them  I  had  promised  to  go 
to  Broadlands  before,  Mrs.  Menzes  said  it  would  not  do  at  all, 
after  I  was  advertised;  I  would  lose  my  influence  for  g(Kjd;  that 
that  was  one  of  the  things  they  were  very  particular  about  in 
England.  I  knew  nothing  about  the  advertisement  myself,  and 
had  nothing  to  do  with  it;  but  that  I  could  not  explain.  So  I  did 
not  go  to  Broadlands  till  the  next  vear. 


264  Autobiography  of 

Monday,  39th.  Quite  a  party  of  us  take  a  carriage  drive  to 
Buttermere  mountains.  Oh,  such  a  sight  my  eyes  never  beheld. 
The  beauty  and  grandeur  beggar  description. 

Wednesday,  31st.  Had  a  nice  meeting.  Took  a  sixteen  mile 
drive.  Went  to  see  the  old  church  —  seventeen  hundred  years  old. 
I  never  saw  antiquities  in  such  profusion  before. 

Thursday,  Aug.  1st.  Tired,  but  saved.  Go  to  Kendel,  to  Mr. 
Brathwaite's.  Mr.  Brathwaite  is  a  very  wealthy  Quaker  gentle- 
man. I  shall  never  forget  their  beautiful  home,  and  their  kindness 
to  me,  a  stranger.  God  bless  them.  There  I  met  Mrs.  Johnson  and 
Miss  Smiley.  Dear  Miss  Smiley,  how  solicitous  she  was  for  me! 
She  came  into  my  room  one  day  and  said  she  felt  impressed  to  say 
to  me  that  she  thought  I  should  not  go  to  Broadlands.  The  Lord 
had  blessed  me  so  much,  and  it  would  be  such  a  pity  if  I  were 
to  go  there  and  be  spoilt.     Poor  thing,  how  kind  she  was! 

Saturday,  Aug.  3d.  I  leave  Keswick  to-day  for  St.  Helens. 
Arrive  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Mrs.  Menzes  met 
me  at  the  station  with  the  carriage.  The  first  thing  that  struck 
me  when  I  got  out  of  the  carriage  was  large  bills  pasted  up,  beau- 
tiful pink  paper,  with  black  letters:  ''Mrs.  Amanda  Smith,  the 
Converted  Hlaxe  from  America,  will  give  Oospel  Addresses  and  Sing  in 
Victoria  Hall  for  so  many  days. ' '  My  knees  felt  very  weak,  but 
there  I  was  in  for  it. 

Sunday,  4th.  My  first  day  at  the  Hall.  It  is  a  large  hall, 
holding  from  six  to  eight  hundred  persons.  It  was  right  in  a 
Roman  Catholic  settlement,  and  I  was  quite  a  novelty,  being  a 
woman,  and  a  black  woman,  at  that.  So  at  night  the  meeting 
was  crowded.  But  of  all  the  audiences  that  I  ever  spoke  to,  I 
never  before  saw  one  so  mixed  —  women  with  shawls  over  their 
heads,  some  with  nothing  on  their  heads  at  all,  some  barefoot, 
men  and  women  respectable  looking,  others  far  from  it,  but  on  the 
whole  all  behaved  well.  Then  there  was  a  crowd  that  had  gath- 
ered at  the  door  to  see  me  when  I  came  out,  and  they  almost  pulled 
the  clothes  off  of  me.  It  took  four  policemen  to  get  me  into  the 
carriage,  while  the  driver  sat  on  the  box  and  cut  right  and  left 
with  his  whip  to  keep  the  way  clear  while  he  started.  Of  all  the 
unearthly  yells  I  ever  heard,  they  gave  them.  This  was  all  new 
to  me.  I  had  been  around  a  good  deal  in  America,  and  had  been 
to  many  large  meetings  where  there  were  thousands,  but  I  had 
never  seen  anything  like  this  before. 


Amanda  Smith.  •j«)5 

Monday,  olh.     Praise  th»'  Lord,  Oh,  my  soul. 

"  Tho  peaco  of  Christ  keeps  fresh  my  htarl, 
A  fountain  ever  springing; 
All  things  are  mine  since  I  am  His, 
How  can  I  keep  from  singing?" 

To-day  we  have  a  large  field  meeting,  as  they  call  it  in 
England,  a  kind  of  picnic.  I  stood  in  a  cart  in  this  grea'  big 
field,  in  the  midst  of  five  or  six  hundred  people,  and  tried  to  talk 
to  them,  and  sing.  It  was  a  difficult  job  and  all  new  to  me,  but  I 
did  the  best  1  could. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

VISIT  TO  SCOTLAND,  LONDON,  AND  OTHER  PLACES  —  C0NVER9A 
TION  WITH  A  CURATE  —  GREAT  MEETING  AT  PERTH  —  HOW 
I  CAME   TO   GO   TO   INDIA. 

I  think  it  was  in  September,  1878.  I  had  met  Miss  Amars,  of 
Galishields,  Scotland,  at  the  Keswick  Conference.  She  was  a  high- 
born lady,  and  a  typical  Scotchwoman;  and  a  more  thoroughly 
consecrated,  self-sacrificing  lady,  I  think,  I  never  met.  Her 
mother,  too,  was  an  earnest  Christian,  and  a  staunch  Scotch 
church  woman.  Miss  Amars  had  a  large  mothers'  meeting,  and 
did  all  she  could  in  every  way  to  help  the  poor.  And  being  a  lady 
of  wide  influence,  and  using  it  for  God,  she  did  much  good. 

She  was  generally  consulted  about  an  evangelist,  if  one  was  to 
come  to  the  town;  she  gave  her  influence  and  threw  herself  right 
into  helping  in  every  way;  by  visiting,  and  inviting  people. 
There  was  a  large  hall  where  Evangelistic  services  were  held 
every  Sunday  and  through  the  week.  So  after  Miss  Amars  had 
gone  home  from  the  Keswick  Conference,  where  she  had  got  a 
fresh  anointing  of  the  Spirit,  she  went  to  work  at  once,  and  pre- 
pared the  Avay  for  my  coming. 

This  was  wonderful;  for  the  Scotch  Presbyterians  are  so  con- 
servative: and  for  a  woman  to  talk  before  a  mixed  congregation 
of  men  and  women  was  not  to  be  thought  of  in  Scotland.  What- 
ever they  did  in  England,  or  in  the  United  States,  they  in  Scot- 
land could  not  venture  that  far. 

The  brother  who  had  charge  of  the  Evangelistic  meetings  in 
the  hall,  was  more  liberal  than  most  of  the  brethren;  and  then 
knowing  Miss  Amars,  as  he  did,  he  could  not  well  refuse  her  when 
she  told  him  of  me.  He  consented  to  let  me  speak  in  his  hall.  I 
went  at  the  time  appointed.  They  had  arranged  entertainment 
for  me  at  a  very  pleasant  home,  near  by  the  hall,  as  they  lived 
quite  a  little  ways  off,  themselves. 

(266) 


Amanda  Smith.  ^e? 

Of  course,  I  was  (luitr  a  curiosily,  to  start  with.  The  hall 
was  crowded.  It  would  hold  about  three  hundred,  or  four  hun- 
dred. The  first  two  meetintrs,  I  saw  they  were  a  little  afraid  that 
I  didn't  know  what  I  was  ^'oin^'  to  do.  Hut  I  was  ju<lieious  and 
tarelul.  and  the  Lord  heli)ed  ntie  wonderfully.  H\  the  time  I  held 
the  third  meeting' one  could  not  have  told  from  their  manner,  and 
the  hearty  Scotch  co-operation  and  sympathy  with  which  they 
stood  by  me,  but  what  they  had  been  accustomed,  not  only  to 
women  preachin<:.  but  to  black  women,  all  their  days. 

Every  ni<;ht  there  were  crowds.  Many  were  turned  away; 
they  could  not  ^^et  in.  The  Lord  gave  me  great  liberty  in  speak- 
ing for  Him,  and  many  during  the  meeting  profes.sed  to  have 
found  peace  in  believing.  The  first  three  nights  I  talked  more 
directly  to  believers;  I  saw  they  were  full  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth,  which  is  a  marked  characteristic  of  the  Scotch  people. 
They  know  their  Bibles;  but  they  need  to  know  the  Holy  Ghost 
to  quicken  the  Word  into  life  and  power. 

At  the  close  of  the  meeting  one  evening,  a  good,  old  brother 
said  to  me,  softly,  in  his  beautiful  Scotch  accent:  "Sister  Smith, 
I  think  you  had  better  speak  more  to  sinners." 

"Yes."  I  said,  "but  you  know  there  are  many  sinners  in 
Zion,  and  I  want  them  to  wake  up." 

I  often  find  when  the  truth  hits  that  some  one  is  very  an.xious 
you  should  go  for  the  poor  sinners.  It  is  generally  a  sign  that  they 
want  to  be  let  alone.     But  when  the  Lord  leads  it  is  all  right. 

One  morning  a  lady  called  to  have  a  talk  with  me  about  the 
great  salvation.  She  knew  her  Bible  well,  and  was  a  staunch 
member  of  the  church,  and  had  been  for  years;  but  she  had  no 
assurance  that  she  ever  was  converted.  As  she  went  on  and  told 
me  her  state,  with  tears,  I  asked  the  Holy  Spirit  to  help  me;  and 
as  I  talked  with  her  the  Lord  sent  light  into  her  heart;  and  there 
in  Mrs.  Amars'  parlor  the  Holy  Spirit  witnessed  to  her  heart  that 
she  was  born  of  God.  We  kneli  together,  and  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life  she  opened  her  lips  to  pray  and  thank  God  for  His  great 
mercy,  and  testify  to  the  family  bef«)re  she  left  that  she  had  the 
assurance  of  her  salvation.  Praise  the  Lord!  This  was  a  wonder- 
ful victory. 

My  last  meeting  was  held  in  one  of  the  chapels.  We  had  a 
large  crowd,  and  though  it  was  a  week  day  morniiiL'.  about  nine 
o'clock,  the  chapel  was  almost  crowded.  Oh,  what  a  blessed  time 
we  had! 


368  Autobiography  of 

If  I  could  have  stayed  lon^ier,  there  were  other  phices  that 
were  open  to  me.  This  was  an  entering  wedge.  There  had  never 
been  such  a  thing  known  as  a  woman  talking  to  a  mixed  congre- 
gation, and  that  in  the  hall  was  remarkable;  but  when  a  chapel 
opened  its  doors,  that  was  a  departure.  These  were  some  of  the 
Lord's  doings  in  beautiful  Scotland. 

While  I  was  there,  as  the  winter  was  coming  on,  and  was  my 
first  winter  in  England,  I  needed  a  cloak,  and  I  had  been  thinking 
about  it.  I  had  to  send  money  home  to  my  daughter,  and  I 
thought  I  could  not  see  how  I  was  going  to  spare  the  money  to  get 
me  a  cloak.  So  I  prayed,  and  asked  the  Lord  to  open  a  way  that 
I  might  get  a  jacket,  or  something  comfortable,  for  the  winter.  A 
fur-lined  cloak  was  what  I  would  have  liked  to  have;  but  they 
were  four  and  five  and  six  guineas,  and  I  knew  I  could  not  afford 
to  pay  that.  No  one  knew  that  these  thoughts  were  in  my  mind 
but  the  Lord.  Miss  Amars,  and  Miss  Knowles,  her  friend  from 
England,  proposed  taking  me  to  Edinburgh  for  a  day.  As  the 
meetings  were  only  held  at  night,  I  could  go  about  anywhere  in 
the  day.  Edinburgh  was  about  an  hour  and  a  half's  ride  from 
Galishields.     I  was  very  glad  to  go. 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning.  We  left  about  eight  o'clock.  I 
had  read  about  John  Knox,  and  his  persecution  by  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots,  and  I  thought  I  would  like  to  see  the  house  where  he  had 
lived,  for  I  had  heard  it  was  still  standing. 

The  first  thing  after  we  got  to  Edinburgh  these  ladies  said  to 
me,  "We  want  to  do  a  little  shopping  before  we  go  around  sight- 
seeing." They  asked  if  I  would  like  to  go  into  the  shop.  I  said, 
*'0h,  yes." 

They  had  planned  to  get  me  a  cloak,  but  I  did  not  know  it. 
So  they  took  me  into  one  of  the  large  shops,  and  into  the  cloak 
department,  and  the  first  thing  I  knew  they  began  to  fit  cloaks  on 
me.  I  held  my  breath;  for  I  thought  it  could  not  be  that  I  was 
going  to  get  a  fur  cloak.  But  Miss  Knowles  told  me  that  she 
wanted  to  give  me  a  fur  cloak.  And  so  they  got  me  a  very  nice 
cloak  costing  six  guineas.     My!  I  walked  out  of  there  swell! 

Then  the  next  thing  was  to  see  John  Knox's  house;  to  get  a 
view  of  this  old  home,  we  walked  along  High  street,  and  into  the 
famous  Canongate.  This  is  the  best  way.  There  are  tall,  wierd, 
old  houses  on  either  hand,  and  among  them  the  narrow  home  of 
John  Knox;  a  strange  looking  building,  adjoining  a  church;  there 


A  MAN  HA  Smith.  26fl 

were  steps  j^oiii-:  up  from  tin-  outside,  rickety  looking',  \V(MMlrn 
steps.  There  was  a  si«:n  han^Miij;  out,  with  the  i)icture  of  John 
Knox  in  the  attitude  of  prayer.  I  stood  and  looked  at  it,  and 
thoujrht.  "Can  it  hi'  possibh'  that  after  all  these  years  Ciod  has 
permitted  one  like  mv  to  be  on  this  very  ground  where  that  man 
walked,  and  t«)  stand  and  look  at  his  house?"  And  I  thou«:ht  of 
what  God  had  dont'  throu«rh  that  mijifhty  man  of  failli  and  prayer, 
and  that  He  had  favored  me  with  such  a  privile^re. 

Then  we  visited  St.  Giles  and  the  old  abbey,  Holyrood  Palace, 
and  the  castle.  The  palace  is  open  to  visitors,  and  contains  many 
objects  of  interest.  Among  these  are  the  apartments  of  the  ill- 
fated  Queen  Mary.  In  going  through  these  apartments  and  having 
different  parts  explained,  I  was  greatly  interested;  they  were  old 
in  style  to  what  they  would  be  now,  yet  the  remains  of  grandeur 
and  splendor  were  there.  The  bed  that  the  Queen  slejjt  in,  with 
its  lace  and  curtains,  was  said  to  be  just  the  same. 

From  there  we  went  to  the  museum.  Amo«g  the  things  of 
interest  we  saw  there  was  the  frame  of  the  pulpit  in  which  John 
Knox  preached.  That  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  s.mmi  stocks. 
I  had  read  of  Paul  being  in  stocks  in  prison,  but  I  ntv.r  kiuw 
what  it  meant  till  I  saw  them  in  Edinburgh.  Another  thing  we 
saw  there  was  a  stool,  which  was  connected  with  an  incident  both 
historical  and  amusing.  When  the  liturgy  of  Archbishop  Laud 
was  introduced  into  Scotland,  the  south  end  of  the  transept,  which 
was  used  as  a  kirk,  was  the  scene  of  this  incident.  Thi-  liisliojiof 
Edinburgh  held  services  there  after  the  form  prescrib.-d  by  Laud. 
He  had  just  asked  the  Dean  to  read  the  collect  for  thr  i\:iy.  when 
a  woman  named  Jennie  Geddes  attempted  to  stop  him  by  hurlini: 
at  his  head  the  stool  on  which  she  was  sitting.  He  dodged  it.  but 
the  blow  was  fatal  to  the  effort  to  force  Episcopacy  upon  nformed 
Scotland. 

The  chief  sight  of  Edinburgh  is  the  castle.  It  stands  on  the 
summit  of  a  lofty  and  abrupt  hill,  and  commands  the  city  and  sur- 
rounding country.  How  many  things  I  learned  from  what  they 
told  me  about  all  these.  The  Scotch  ladies,  as  well  as  the  English, 
are  so  well  versed  in  tin-  history  of  their  country  that  they  can 
with  ease  detail  almost  any  event  of  any  time.  I  never  had  met 
anybody  that  could  do  this  so  satisfactorily  as  they  did  f(»r  me.  If 
my  memory  could  only  have  retained  what  they  told  mr,  I  would 
have  had  quite  a  little  store  of  history  laid  up.     All  the  bits  of 


370  Autobiography  of 

history  I  had  read  about  were  exphiined  to  me  over  and  over  again. 
How  beautiful  it  all  was,  and  what  a  pleasant  time. 

It  was  all  very  interesting  to  me  as  the  ladies  described  and 
explained  it  as  we  wont  along.  They  were  familiar  with  the 
names,  and  I  was  quite  familiar  with  them  from  hearing  so  much 
while  there,  and  I  thought  I  would  never  forget  them.  But  after 
having  the  African  fever  so  much  I  find  my  momor}'  is  quite 
weak,  and  I  am  so  sorry  I  have  forgotten  the  names  of  so  many 
places  and  things. 

By  this  time  it  was  noon,  and  Miss  Knowles  proposed  that  we 
go  to  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  She  had  a  special  desire  to  go  there  and 
once  more  stand  on  the  spot  where  she  first  stood  up,  at  the  meet- 
ings Mr.  Moody  was  holding,  and  decided  for  Christ. 

She  was  a  beautiful  young  lady,  in  high  position,  with  all  the 
worldly  pleasure  and  enjoyment  at  her  hand,  and  was  much 
admired  as  a  society  lady,  and  when  Mr.  Moody  was  holding  meet- 
ings at  Edinburgii  she  thought  she  would  go  and  hear  him.  She 
was  on  a  visit  at  that  time  in  Scotland.  Her  home  was  in  South- 
port,  England.  And  as  Mr.  Moody  went  on  with  his  address  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  took  hold  of  her  and  she  yielded  her  heart  fully 
to  God,  and  from  that  hour  gave  up  all  that  seemed  to  be  so  dear, 
as  the  world  would  call  it.  But  she  never  had  a  regret.  She 
turned  right  away  from  it  without  a  lingering  look  behind.  How 
beautiful!  She  used  to  come  to  my  room  and  ask  me  to  pray  for 
her.     How  often  we  have  knelt  down  and  prayed  together! 

"When  we  are  willing  with  all  things  to  part, 
He  gives  us  our  bounty,  His  love  in  our  heart." 

Praise  Him,  praise  Him,  Jesus  our  wonderful  Redeemer. 

So  we  went  into  the  hall.  They  were  not  having  a  meeting 
that  day.  Miss  Knowles  took  me  to  the  spot  and  showed  mo  where 
she  sat  and  whore  she  stood,  the  very  spot.  Hor  face  beamed  with 
light  and  joy  as  she  seemed  to  live  it  all  over  again.  And  how  she 
thanked  and  praised  the  Lord  for  giving  her  the  courage  to  take 
the  step  that  day. 

Then  we  called  on  some  friends  and  had  an  elegant  lunch,  and 
after  this  beautiful  day  of  sight-seeing  we  returned  again  to  Gali- 
shields,  and  after  a  little  rest  we  were  off  again  to  the  meeting.  I 
was  very  tired,  but  the  Lord  gave  us  great  blessing  that  night  in 
the  meeting. 


Amanda  Smith.  071 

Sunday,  Nov.  8th,  1878.     My  first  Sunday  in  London.      I  .„  to 
^^t•s^■y  Chapel,  and.  Oh.  to  s...  on.  i.ray  oul  of  a  book  in  th.  M.th- 
odist  C  hurch  was  so  dUWvrui  from  what   I   had  ever  expected      I 
shall  never  for^'et  the  te.vt  and  the  sermon.     Every ihin.^ .seemed  so 
tormal  and  dead  in  comparison  with  wiiat  1  iiad  been  accustomrd 
to  in  our  Methodist  Churches  in  America.     Kv.n   il...  .s.-itin- of 
the  people  Seemed   formal;    or,  in  other  words.  ,0  „„•.  it 's.-.-m,..! 
dead      A\hat  confirmed  it   more  was.  wli.-n  th.  minister  took   his 
text  from  Rev.  14:  18.  "  Rl.ssed  are  the  dead  that  die  in  th.  I  ord 
yea.evensosaith  the  Spirit,  for  they  rest  from  their  hibors   and 
their  works  do  follow  them;  "  and  I  said  to  mvs.^if,  "  I  ^ru,.ss  ih.-re 
IS  a  funeral  sermon  to  be  preached."     And  1   thou-ht  h.-   would 
make  some  reference  to  the  person  who  had  died,  thou-h  1  saw  no 
Sign  of  any  who  might  be  taken  to  be  the  parties  who  had  lost  rel- 
atives   save    here  and   there  in   the  congregation   was  some  one 
dressed  in  black.      But  he  went  on,  and  I  concluded  when  he  was 
through  that  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  burv  them    for  they 
were  all  dead,  and  the  funeral  sermon  was  preached 

Wednesday  Dec.  11th.  1878.  Prof.  Harris,  of  Cambridge, 
called  to-day.  Had  a  nice  season  of  prayer  together.  Invites  me 
to  Cambridge. 

Tuesday.  24th.^     I  get  a  number  of  letters  written   to-dav 
About  six  o'clock  a  knock  comes  at  my  door.     A  servant  comes 
and  says  the  expressman  has  brought  a  hamper  for  me. 
.  '•  No."  I  said,  -  it  cannot  be  for  me.     Nobody   would  send  me 

a  hamper.     Nobody  knows  me  here.     It  is  a  mistake." 
"Yes.  it  is  for  you,  Amanda  Smith." 

"No."  I  said,  "it  cannot  be.  Go  down  and  tell  the  man  it  is 
a  mistake.     I'm  not  expecting  anything." 

So  off  she  went.  By  and  by  she  c'lme  back,  laughing.  She 
says.  "  The  man  says  you  must  come  and  sign  the  book.  It  is  for 
you.     He  was  to  leave  it  here." 

W»'1I.  I  went  downstairs.'and.  lo!  and  behold,  there  it  was  It 
was  the  first  time  1  had  ever  had  a  Christmas  hami,er  sent  me 
And  It  was  packed  full  of  the  nicest  Christmas  things  I  ever  had 
I  was  astonished  beyond  expression.  We  went  to  work  to  take  cut 
the  things.  There  was  a  beautiful  cake,  fine  French  cuudv. 
almonds,  nuts,  raisins,  everything  elegant;  and  down  at  the  side  I 
saw  a  beautiful  album,  and  when  1  took  it  out  I  .saw  the  .secret 
forth.n-  was   Miss  Morris'  ph(.to  and  a  l.-tt.-r.  with  the  compli- 


372  Autobiography  op 

ments  of  the  season.  Then  I  knew  she  had  sent  it.  So  character- 
istic of  her  to  think  of  the  needs  of  any  one,  and  then  to  think  of 
me,  a  stranger,  in  a  strange  land.  I  cannot  tell  how  I  felt.  I  have 
no  language  to  describe  my  deep  appreciation  and  thanksgiving. 
She  inet  me  first  at  Keswick,  and  I  learned  to  love  her  then;  and 
after  I  had  been  at  her  home,  and  shared  her  hospitality  and  the 
friendship  of  her  sister,  Miss  Anna,  and  Mrs.  Richard  Morris,  I 
shall  never  forget  her.     May  God  ever  bless  her  memory. 

One  time  in  London  a  young  curate  came  to  me  to  have  a  talk. 
He  wanted  to  convince  me  in  regard  to  the  transubstantiation. 
He  said  he  was  rather  a  good  High  Churchman.  He  said  the  dis- 
senters were  wrong.  He  believed  some  of  them  were  good,  and  it 
was  such  a  pity  they  should  be  so  wrong  in  their  views  or  knowl- 
edge in  regard  to  the  Holy  Communion. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "you  take  the  wine  and  bread  figuratively, 
but  don't  you  know  that  you  are  to  take  it  as  the  real  literal  body 
of  Jesus  and  blood  of  Jesus?  But  your  faith  must  so  take  it  that 
it  really  is  changed,  while  in  the  act  of  being  taken  into  the  real 
body  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  into  the  real  blood." 

Well,  I  could  not  understand  it.  He  explained  and  explained, 
and  explained!  I  told  him  I  could  not  see  it  that  way.  Then  he 
went  on  in  a  very  elaborate  manner  to  bring  illustrations  and 
evidences  to  show  and  prove.  I  listened.  He  talked  to  me  two 
hours. 

I  did  not  know  what  else  to  say,  or  at  least  I  felt  I  did  noi 
want  to  say  anything,  for  surely  I  was  tired  and  felt  the  whole 
thing  sounded  to  me  like  bosh;  but  still  I  was  patient,  and  prayed 
the  Lord  to  give  me  grace  to  hold  still.  Finally  I  said  to  him, 
after  a  great  explanation,  "Oh,  that  is  the  way  you  understand  it." 

Then  he  drew  up  his  chair,  thinking  he  had  convinced  me 
thoroughly,  to  make  his  final  conclusion. 

"  Well,"  I  said  to  him,  "  there  is  only  one  thing  about  it  that 
is  hard  for  me  to  do." 

"  Now,  what  is  that,  Mrs.  Smith?  "  with  such  an  air  of  com- 
placency, as  though  he  could  soon  clear  that  away. 

"  Why,  it  has  always  been  such  a  hard  thing  for  me  to  believe 
what  I  know  is  not  true." 

My!  he  was  thunderstruck! 

"Well,"  he  said,  "  Mrs.  Smith,  I  feel  so  sorry  to  think  that  a 
good  woman  like  you  should  be  deceived;  but  I  will  come  and 


Amanda  Smith.  273 

have  a  tulk  with  you  again;  I  like  to  talk  with  you.  Sometimes 
when  I  talk  lo  persons  they  seem  to  get  so  tired  and  vexed;  but 
you  are  so  piitient  and  quiet." 

I  thanked  him  very  kindly,  and  he  left.  Then  I  got  down 
on  my  knees  and  said,  "Oh,  Lord,  Lord,  don't  ever  let  that  mao 
come  back  any  more,  for  I  don't  want  to  talk  any  more;  I  am 
tired.     Amen." 

"Well,"  I  thought,  "if  you  knew  how  disgusted  I  felt  inside, 
you  would  think  I  got  vexed,  anyhow." 

So  the  good  curate  never  came  back  again  and  I  was  free. 

I  met  with  many  strange  things  in  dilferent  i)laces  in  England, 
strange  views  of  all  sorts.  I  don't  know  whether  it  is  worse  there 
than  here,  but  the  isms  and  cisms  and  fanatics  —  dear  me,  where 
are  they  not?  They  are  like  the  tti«'S  and  frogs  of  Egypt,  all  over; 
but  they  that  trust  in  the  Lord  shall  be  as  Mount  Zion,  which 
shall  never  be  moved. 

August  9th,  1879,  I  leave  Keswick  for  Darlington  with  Miss 
Fothergil.  Miss  Fothergil  has  a  very  large  and  interesting  Bible 
class  of  young  men.  She  is  a  great  worker  and  organizer  of 
Christian  work.  So  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  went  to 
this  Bible  class.  I  suppose  there  were  two  hundred  men.  Of 
course  there  were  other  workers  engaged  as  helpers.  It  was  a 
beautiful  sight  to  see  these  men — working  men — .all  engaged  in 
studying  the  "Word  of  God  for  an  hour  on  Sunday  morning. 

At  eleven  o'clock  we  attended  at  the  Friends'  meeting  house; 
no  singing,  or  praying,  or  preaching,  unless  the  Spirit  moves. 
But  I  felt  quite  comfortable  to  sit  and  be  quiet. 

Monday,  August  11th.  I  leave  Darlington  to-day  for  Broad- 
lands  Conference,  Lord  Mount  Temple's.  As  I  had  been  disap- 
pointed in  not  getting  to  go  the  year  before.  Lord  Mount  Temple 
was  very  kind,  and  when  I  was  holding  meetings  at  Charington 
Hall,  at  Stepney,  London,  he,  with  a  number  of  his  friends,  came 
cne  night  to  the  meeting,  and  he  invited  me  personally  to  come  to 
the  conference  next  year.  It  did  seem  as  though  I  was  to  be  de- 
feated this  time,  as  I  had  been  before,  in  going.  But  my  dear 
friend,  Mr.  Edward  ClilTord,  felt  so  sure  that  the  Lord  wanted  I 
should  go  there,  that  he  kept  writing  and  urging  me  to  come; 
and  I  was  well  persuaded  that  he  was  not  wrong. 

I  was  royally  entertained  at  Lord  Mount  Tt-mple's  lujme. 
And  God  gave  me  favor  among  the  peoi)le,  and  great  blessing  in 


274  Autobiography  op 

song  and  testimony.  Though  everything  was  done  differently 
in  regard  to  the  meeting  from  what  I  had  been  accustomed  to  in 
America,  yet  the  Lord  seemed  to  get  me  through. 

T  remember  the  first  day  of  the  meeting.  It  was  a  beautiful 
day,  and  there  were  great  numbers  of  people;  and  as  we  came  in 
from  the  beautiful  orangery,  the  hall  where  the  meeting  was 
held,  and  went  into  the  house  to  dinner,  as  I  stood  in  the  great, 
spacious  hall,  and  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  waiting  to  go  to 
dinner,  Lady  Mount  Temple  came  down  stairs  and  came  up  to  me 
and  put  her  arms  around  my  neck  and  kissed  me  before  all  the 
people. 

I  was  a  little  embarrassed,  though  I  felt  it  was  real.  But  no 
one  knew  whether  I  blushed  or  not,  or  whether  I  was  really  em- 
barrassed; so  far  as  my  color  was  concerned,  they  could  not 
perceive  it.     One  good  thing  —  there  is  no  chameleon  about  me! 

Then  when  we  were  ready  to  go  to  dinner  Lord  Mount  Temple 
came  up  to  me  and  said,  "Mrs.  Smith,  take  my  arm."  And  we 
led  the  way  to  the  dining  room. 

My!  I  thought.  It  was  the  first  time  in  all  my  life  that  I  was 
ever  escorted  by  a  gentleman  to  dinner  in  such  style. 

Dinner  was  something  that  I  had  always  managed  to  get  to 
without  any  help!  But  then,  this  was  the  order  of  the  day.  I 
soon  found  that  this  was  the  custom  in  England,  for  many  times 
afterward  I  had  that  honor,  and  I  have  also  had  the  same  honor 
conferred  upon  me  in  America. 

How  well  I  remember  the  first  time.  When  Dr.  Newman, 
who  is  now  Bishop  Newman,  was  pastor  of  the  Metropolitan 
Church  in  Washington,  and  Brother  Inskip  held  that  great  tent 
meeting,  I  was  at  that  meeting.  Dr.  Newman  invited  Brother 
Inskip  to  hold  their  closing  service  at  his  church.  So  they  did. 
There  was  a  meeting  arranged  for  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  in 
the  lecture  room,  for  ladies;  and  at  noon  the  ministers  were  in- 
vited to  a  meeting  upstairs  in  the  audience  room,  and  at  night 
Brother  Inskip  preached.     Then  they  left  the  next  morning. 

I  was  invited  next  day  by  Mrs  Newman  to  dine  with  them. 
I  went  at  the  hour  appointed.  Mrs.  Newman  was  very  kind,  and 
after  I  went  upstairs  and  laid  off  my  things,  we  went  down  to 
dinner.  Brother  McDonald  and  some  of  the  other  brethren  were 
also  invited.  When  we  got  down  into  the  parlor  Dr.  Newman 
came  and  said,  "Take  my  arm,  Mrs.  Smith;"  and  we  led  the 
way;  and  he  gave  me  the  seat  of  honor  at  his  right. 


Amanda  S>MiTrt.  275 

How  wt'll  I  remember  the  ple;isiint  time  w<'  had,  and  the  ex- 
ct'lU'iit  diiiner.  What  a  p'lilh'.  swert  spirit  stM-mcd  to  pervade 
tht'ir  home  at  tliat  time.  After  the  diiiiitr  was  throu^'h,  we 
remained  at  the  table,  talkin^^  Dr.  Xewinaii  said  to  me,  "  Xow, 
Amanda,  here  is  our  William;"  (referring'  to  the  colored  butler); 
"  we  are  very  interested  for  our  William;  he  is  not  converted,  and 
I  want  you  to  t:ilk  to  him.  I  buried  his  sister  about  a  week  aj^^o. 
Slie  was  a  j!:o(»d  Christian.     And  William  ought  to  be  converted." 

Tiien  1  turned  to  William  and  began  to  talk.  We  talked 
awhile,  md  William  stood  and  looked  very  serious;  and  tlu'ii  Dr. 
Newman  sugirested  that  I  sing,  and  Brother  McDonald  suggested 
what  he  thought  would  be  a  good  thing,  and  we  joined  and  sang. 

Just  in  the  midst  of  our  singing  the  bell  rang,  and  William 
had  to  answer  it.  When  he  came  in  he  spoke  to  Mrs.  Newman 
and  told  her  who  it  was,  and  Mrs.  Newman  went  out  into  the 
parlor,  and  in  a  little  while  she  came  back  bringing  a  lady  with 
her,  whom  she  introduced  as  her  friend,  Mrs.  C.  I  had  met  Mrs. 
C.  the  day  before.  Mrs.  Newman  had  introduced  me  to  her,  and 
told  me  how  she  was  seeking  the  Lord.  After  she  was  seated, 
Dr.  Newman  said,  "  Now,  Amanda,  I  think  you  had  better  sing 
us  another  piece."  So  something  else  was  suggested,  and  we 
joined  and  sang. 

While  we  were  singing,  I  noticed  that  Mrs.  C.  could  hardly 
control  her  emotions.  I  knew  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  had  taken 
hold  of  her  heart.  Then  Dr.  Newman  said,  "  Now  we  will  have  a 
season  of  prayer." 

So  right  there  in  the  dining  room  we  just  knelt  and  prayed 
around;  each  one  prayed.  And  when  it  came  my  turn  it  seemed 
to  me  I  never  was  so  helped  in  prayer.  I  prayed  ('specially  for  this 
lady.  I  felt  that  God  would  bless  her.  Sure  enough,  when  we 
rose  from  our  knees,  her  burden  was  all  gone  and  she  was  hapi)y. 
She  wrote  me  a  beautiful  letter  while  I  was  in  Africa,  and  told  me 
the  blessing  she  received  that  day  had  remained  with  her;  and. 
though  she  had  i)assed  through  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  yet  she  had 
never  lost  the  peace  and  blessing  that  came  to  her  that  day. 

I  thought  at  that  time  how  wonderful  it  was  for  Mrs.  Newman 
to  bring  that  lady  into  her  dining  room  when  I  was  there.  I  know 
some  ladies  who  would  have  been  ashamed  to  let  it  be  known  that 
I  was  in  their  dining  room. 

Then  I  went  down  stairs  and   had  a  little   visit  with  the  eld 


276  Autobiography  op 

servant.  She,  too,  bore  testimony  to  Mrs.  Newman's  kindness  to 
them.    She  said  to  me,  "  I  used  to  live  with  Mrs  Newman's  mother. 

Miss ,  (calling  her  by  her  maiden  name)  was  always  kind.    She 

has  not  changed  a  bit.  Sometimes  when  they  have  little  evening 
parties,  and  have  ice  cream,  after  the  people  are  all  gone,  Mrs. 
Newman  will  come  downstairs  and  ask  if  there  was  any  cream  left 
for  William  and  me;  and  if  there  was  not,  she  will  send  out  if  it  was 
ten  o'clock  at  night,  so  we  may  have  our  part.  This  treatment  to 
you  is  not  put  on.  I  know  them."  Of  course,  this  was  all  before 
Dr.  Newman  was  Bishop. 

Thursday,  August  14th.  I  leave  Broadlands  for  Salisbury. 
Rev.  Mr.  Thwaites  invites  me  to  come  to  Salisbury  and  hold  some 
meetings.     I  was  entertained  at  Fisherton  Rectory. 

Monday.  18th.  I  leave  for  Eastbourne,  Miss  Mason's  house  of 
rest.  Here  I  meet  many  of  the  workers  who  are  there  for  a  week's 
rest,  or  more.  How  good  of  the  Lord  to  give  me  this  privilege, 
and  these  few  days  of  quiet  and  rest. 

Frida}',  29th.  Leave  Eastbourne.  Spend  the  evening  with 
Miss  Drake,  at  Dr.  Bordman's,  Rochester  Square,  London.  She  is 
on  her  way  back  to  India. 

Sunday,  31st.  Mr.  Richard  Morris  arranges  a  meeting  at  the 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  The  Lord  gave  me  great  liberty  in  speaking,  and  we 
had  a  good  time. 

September  1st,  1879.  I  leave  Doncaster  for  the  great  Perth, 
Scotland,  Conference.  These  meetings  are  held  annuall}',  and  are 
very  marked  for  blessing.  I  was  asked  to  come  a  week  before  the 
Conference  convened,  and  hold  some  preparatory  meetings,  so  as 
to  add  to  the  interest  of  blessing  at  the  Conference.  Mrs.  Gordon, 
of  Park  Hill,  Aberdeen,  and  Mrs.  Douglas  were  among  the  promi- 
nent ladies  in  the  church,  and  they  had  arranged  for  my  enter- 
tainment. I  was  met  at  the  station  by  three  Christian  workers. 
When  I  stepped  out  of  the  train  they  came  right  up  to  me,  and 
were  so  cordial  and  kind,  I  felt  quite  at  home  with  them.  They 
never  allow  you  to  carry  anything;  they  just  take  your  hand-bag, 
and  go  at  once  and  see  after  jour  baggage,  so  that  everything  is 
made  so  easy  for  you.     For  this,  I  alwaj^s  praise  the  Lord. 

I  noticed  they  had  bundles  of  hand  bills,  and  were  giving 
them  to  everybody.    So  I  said,  "  You  are  trying  to  advertise  well." 

"Oh,  yes,"  they  said:  "The  people  are  very  hard  to  get  out 
to  a  Gospel  meeting." 


AMANDA  Smith.  277 

"  Is  that  so?"  1  said,  "  1  thou^^lit  ilif  Scotcli  people  turned  out 
well." 

"  The  fact  is,  Mrs.  Smith,  we  jx-ople  have  had  the  Gosi)el  so 
much  that  we  liave  become  Gospel  hardened,  I  think.  When 
an  evan.ij:elist  does  come,  he  always  has  to  work  a  week  before  the 
people  get  interested  and  come  out  in  any  numbers.  So  you  must 
not  be  discouraged,  Mrs.  Smith.  Mr.  Scrogey,  from  Ireland,  was 
here  some  time  ago,  and  he  always  gets  more  out  than  anyone  rise, 
and  yet  it  was  a  week  hvUn-e  there  was  any  mark<'d  interest  in  th.- 
meetings.  The  people  were  so  tardy  about  coming  out." 
"  Indeed." 

"We  have  a  small  hall,  that  will  hold  about  a  hundred,  and 
we  thought  we  would  commence  there  first;  then,  if  the  meetings 
increased,  we  have  a  larger  hall  close  by;  it  holds  about  three 
hundred  and  fifty." 

"  Oh,  my,"  I  said,  "  I  thought  the  Scotch  people  were  people  of 
great  faith;  but  you  only  have  got  faith  for  two  hundred  people. 
You  must  do  better  than  that." 

They  laughed  and  said,  "But,  Mrs.  Smith,  you  don't  know 
the  people." 

"No,"  I  said,  "but  I  know  the  Lord,  and  He  says,  'ask 
largely. ' ' ' 

"Well,"  they  said,  "we  will  see  to-night.'* 
"They  don't  know,"  I  thought,  "that  I  am  God's  bulletin 
board,  and  to  be  even  a  sign  post  for  God  has  its  reward.     How- 
ever, I  will  not  tell  them.     We  will  see." 

So,  as  we  walked  on,  they  said,  seemingly  to  prepare  me,  and 
cheer   me.      "Of  course,   Mrs.    Smith,  you  will  not   feel  embar- 
rassed, for  there  will  only  be  women  allowed  in  the  meeting." 
"Why?" 

"  Well,  we  supposed  you  were  not  accustomed  to  speaking 
before  men;  so  there  will  be  no  men  allowed  in." 

"  Oh,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  mind  speaking  b'fore  men  at  all.     At 

some  of  our  camp  meetings  in  America  I  have  talked  to  two  and 

three  thou.sand  — men  and  women,  girls  and  boys,  young  and  old." 

They  were  astonished  out  of  measure.    So  nothing  further  was 

said  on  the  subject. 

When  evening  came  we  went  to  the  hall.  It  was  packed  and 
crowded;  and  all  outside  the  door  and  along  the  street,  so  that  I 
never  got  in  at  all.     They  took  me  to  ahousenear  by  to  wait  till 


278  Autobiography  op 

they  lighted  up  the  large  hall,  which  took  about  twenty  minutes, 
till  all  was  settled.     Then  I  went  in. 

As  I  passed  down  the  aisle  I  saw  three  men  had  slipped  in, 
and  they  leaned  forward  so  as  not  to  let  me  see  them;  and  I  never 
let  on.  Poor  fellows;  they  were  waiting  every  minute  to  be  told 
to  go  out,  and  they  were  quite  ready;  they  would  have  moved  out 
at  a  word. 

I  went  on,  gave  out  my  hymn,  and  opened  the  meeting;  after 
prayer,  I  began  my  address.  I  never  referred  to  the  men,  or  said 
a  word  about  what  I  had  been  accustomed  to  in  America.  As  1 
talked  on,  the  men  began  to  raise  themselves  up  and  sit  erect. 
My!  I  shall  never  forget  their  faces.  They  seemed  to  look  glad. 
The  Lord  helped  me  to  speak. 

The  next  night  six  men  came  in.  I  went  right  on,  and  said 
nothing  to  them  whatever.  The  third  day  two  ladies  called  to  see 
me.  They  were  much  interested  in  the  meeting,  and  were  very 
wealthy,  and  so  carried  on  the  principal  p-drt  of  the  finances  of  the 
mission.  They  were  very  kind  indeed  tome.  They  were  maiden 
ladies,  sisters.  So  they  came  in  their  carriage  to  protect  me,  and 
see  that  I  was  not  intruded  upon  by  the  men  coming  in.  When 
we  got  to  the  hall  there  were  seven  or  eight  men.  I  saw  these  ladies 
looked  very  sharp  and  surprised.  I  went  on  and  opened  the  meet- 
ing with  a  lively  hymn;  and  the  Scotch  can  sing,  depend  upon  it. 
Then  I  asked  some  one  to  lead  in  prayer;  and  one  of  the  lady 
workers  did  so,  but  it  was  very  faint.  Poor  thing,  I  knew  it  was 
a  struggle;  fortunately  it  was  not  length}'.  So  we  rose,  and  I  gave 
out  the  next  hymn. 

While  they  sang  I  noticed  a  great  deal  of  quiet  whispering  and 
uneasiness;  these  good  ladies  were  very  nervous;  I  was  greatly 
amused.  Just  before  I  began  my  address,  one  of  them  said  to  me, 
"Now,  Mrs.  Smith,  there  are  those  men;  and  they  know  quite 
well  this  is  a  meeting  for  women  only;  and  they  know  they  should 
not  be  in  here.  If  you  would  like,  I  will  speak  to  them,  and  have 
them  go  out." 

*'Oh,  no,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  mind;  I  think  they  came  with  their 
wives;  I  saw  one  man  bring  the  baby  and  give  it  to  the  mother; 
and  if  they  behave  themselves  it's  all  right;  I  want  to  talk  to  the 
women  about  their  souls,  and  their  salvation;  and  that  is  what  the 
men  need  as  well." 

•'Then  it  don't  embarrass  you  to  have  the  men  present?'* 


Amanda  Smith.  27v) 

**N()l  in  lilt'  It'iist,"  I  said.  And  she  sat  down,  comfortably 
8urpris«'d:  .nul  I  had  no  furllitr  trouble  about  the  men  coming  to 
m»'etin^  with  the  women.  They  did  seem  glad.  They  would 
shake  liands  with  me,  and  say,  "  Lord  bless  you,"  and  they  smiled, 
and  I  suppose  they  thought  I  had  given  them  the  best  chance  they 
had  ever  had  to  get  into  a  mixed  meeting. 

The  Sunday  night  of  the  great  Conference,  in  the  large  town 
liall,  holding  eleven  hundred  or  twelve  hundred  people.  Lady 
Hope,  wife  of  Sir  James  Hope,  an  excellent  Christian  lady,  known 
all  over  England  and  Scotland  for  her  earnest  Christian  work 
among  the  navvies  and  working  men,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life, 
after  I  had  sung  "  Whosoever,"  addressed  a  large  audience  of  men 
and  women. 

They  listened  with  profoundest  interest  to  the  Gospel  address. 
It  was  a  new  epoch  in  Scotch  history,  for  a  woman  to  speak  before 
a  company  of  that  kind,  on  such  an  occasion.  I  held  meetings 
for  a  week  after  the  Conference  had  closed;  and  in  that  same  hall 
on  the  following  Sunday  night,  a  hundred  stood  up  for  prayers, 
mostly  men,  with  tears  running  down  their  faces,  and  trembling 
as  they  stood.  They  didn't  pop  up  and  down  in  a  minute,  as  we 
often  see  it  here,  but  they  rose  and  stood.  Oh,  what  a  night  that 
was!  The  workers,  though  there  were  a  great  number,  seemed  to 
be  astounded,  and  didn't  know  what  to  do.  The  Lord  of  Hosts 
was  with  us  and  helped  us. 

I  remember  a  dear  old  woman,  with  a  white  cap  on,  and  her 
Bible  open  in  her  lap  I  went  to  speak  to  her.  She  was  weeping 
bitterly.  She  knew  her  Bible  almost  by  heart;  there  was  not  a 
promise  I  could  mention  but  she  knew  it.  She  said,  "Yes,  Mrs. 
Smith,  I  know  that,  and  I  have  read  it  over  and  over;  but  I 
have  never  had  the  assurance  of  my  salvation,  and  I  don't  know 
that  I  am  saved.     I  want  to  know  it." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "God  wants  you  to  know  it;  and  you  do  know 
His  Word;  but  it  is  the  Spirit  that  quickeneth;  so  ask  the  Lord  to 
give  you  His  Spirit,  and  quicken  the  Word  in  your  heart." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "I  think  it  may  be  that." 

"Have  you  ever  praised  the  Lord  for  His  precious  Word? " 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  try  to  be  thankful,  but  then  I  don't 
know  as  I  ever  have  really  liaised  Him." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "  praise  Him  for  what  He  has  done,  and  trust 
Him  to  give  you  His  Spirit  of  assurance." 


880  Autobiography  of 

And  she  did  right  away,  and  in  a  little  while  was  as  happy 
as  a  bride.  My!  how  beautiful!  Oh,  how  the  t^ess«'d  Spirit  came 
to  her  heart!  filled  her  with  peace  and  joy.  Praise  the  Lord  for 
His  mercy. 

Then  the  Rev.  Mr.  Blank  asked  me  to  take  a  week's  service  in 
his  church.  He  had  an  assistant  pastor,  and  he  himself  had  to 
be  away. 

This  was  a  very  new  thing;  to  be  in  a  Scotch  kirk;  a  woman, 
and  a  black  woman;  whoever  heard  of  such  a  thing?  But  the 
assistant  pastor  was  a  very  earnest  Christian  worker,  and  took 
right  hold,  and  the  Lord  was  with  us.  Every  night  the  house  was 
crowded;  they  had  galleries  all  around,  and  they  were  filled.  They 
used  the  Gospel  Hymns  to  sing  in,  and  then  they  had  their  own 
Book  of  Psalms.  How  many  dear  old  people,  men  and  women. 
How  they  cheered  me!  They  all  joined  in  these  hymns  and  sang 
heartily. 

The  third  night  of  the  meeting,  one  old  gentleman  came  up  to 
me,  and  whispered  softly,  calling  me  aside;  and  in  his  beautiful 
broad  Scotch,  he  said,  "Mrs.  Smith,  the  old  people  would  be  much 
better  pleased  if  you  would  open  the  meeting  and  close  with  a 
Psalm.  We  are  used  to  singing  the  Psalms.  The  young  people 
like  the  Gospel  Hymns;  but  just  for  the  older  people,  I  will  just 
put  that  in  your  ear." 

Then  giving  me  a  little  pinch  on  the  arm,  he  turned  away.  I 
saw  it  in  a  moment.  I  said  nothing,  but  the  next  evening  I  opened 
the  service  by  giving  out  a  Psalm.  I  never  did  such  a  thing 
before,  and  never  had  heard  of  it,  and  hardly  knew  which  to  give 
out;  but  they  knew  them  all,  so  I  ventured.  I  think  it  was  the 
one  hundred  and  third  Psalm.  However,  it  seemed  to  be  just  the 
right  one;  and  the  faces  of  those  old  people  lighted  up;  they 
thought  I  was  the  nicest  kind  of  a  woman!  And  I  thought  I  had 
heard  singing  before,  but  when  I  struck  that  Psalm  it  was  the 
most  beautiful  thing  I  ever  heard.  So  I  got  converted  over  right 
then  and  there  to  Psalm  singing;  though  I  had  not  backslid  over 
any  of  the  old  Hymns  that  I  had  learned  in  days  of  yore.  And  if  I 
lived  in  Scotland  I  should  learn  how  to  sing  the  Psalms. 

We  went  on  with  that  meeting  for  a  week.  The  Lord  gave 
us  great  blessing.  Many  souls  were* strengthened  and  blessed, 
while  some  for  the  first  time  decided  for  Christ. 

September  30,   1879.      Leave   Perth   for   Ab'^rdeen.     Sunday 


Amanda  Smith.  281 

Mfl.rnooii,  Park  Hill  rhain-l,  Mr.  CJoril«.n's.  Mr.  tiordon  had  buill 
a  larp'  chapel  in  the  town,  and  employed  an  cvangrlLst  by  the 
nam.' of  Mr.  Anderson;  a  grand,  p)od  man.  He  often  had  evan- 
gelists come  and  h»'lp  Mr.  Anderson  with  the  meetings.  So  this 
was  a  ne-w  field  for  a  woman  to  work  in,  in  a  mixed  congregation, 
as  was  also  tho  case  in  Perth. 

Then  the  Spirit  of  the  Plymouth  brethren  was  so  very  strong 
in  every  direction.  Of  course,  Father  Anderson  himself  was  on 
the  straight  line. 

I  remember  one  afternoon  it  was  with  great  difficulty  that  1 
got  into  the  church;  they  had  afternoon  meetings,  and  the  crowds 
were  simply  enormous.  I  was  to  give  a  Rible  reading  that  after- 
noon. The  Lord  had  given  us  great  blessings  in  the  evening 
meetings.  A  number  of  souls  professed  to  have  found  peace  in 
believing.     We  had  glorious  times. 

The  work  seemed  to  be  signally  blessed  of  God.  But  the  good 
Plymouth  brethren  did  not  see  it  at  all,  because  T  was  a  woman; 
not  that  I  was  a  black  woman,  but  a  woman.  Paul  had  said: 
"Let  your  women  keep  silence  in  the  churches,"  and  it  was  a 
great  violation  of  Paul's  teachings.  They  would  try,  in  a  nice 
way,  to  get  me  into  an  argument;  but  I  always  avoided  anything 
of  the  kind;  for  it  is  like  bodily  exercise  which  profiteth  little. 

One  afternoon,  as  I  was  in  the  crowd  trying  to  press  my  way 
through,  a  number  of  these  brethren  were  at  the  door  waiting  for 
me,  and  they  handed  me  a  great  epistle,  with  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture quoted  in  most  every  other  line.  My!  they  are  tremendous 
on  quoting  Scripture!  I  took  the  letters,  and,  to  their  surpris<', 
instead  of  reading  them  before  I  began  to  talk,  I  put  them  in  my 
pocket  and  went  on.  What  they  meant  was,  that  I  was  to  read 
the  letters,  and  then  they  had  their  questions  all  propounded.  But 
I  just  went  on.  My!  how  the  Lord  helped  that  afternoon,  and  we 
had  a  good  meeting.  So  I  think  they  gave  me  up  in  disgust,  for  I 
heard  no  more  of  thrm  after  that. 

And  here  let  me  tell  how  it  all  came  about  that  I  got  to  1:0 
overland,  and  so  to  see  Paris  and  the  continent. 

It  was  through  my  dear  friend,  Miss  Morris,  and  that  grand, 
good  man.  Lord  Mount  Temple,  and  my  true  friend,  Mr.  E. 
Clifford,  with  whom  I  had  labored  at  the  liroadlands  Conference, 
and  in  London,  at  Mr.  Charrington's,  Victoria  Hall.  He  had 
been  on  a  tour  through  Scotland,  and  hearing  of  my  intention  to 


383  Autobiography  of 

leave  England  for  India,  on  his  way  home  he  came  through 
Galishields  and  stopped  off  to  see  me.  I  shall  never  forget  his 
untiring  kindness.  But  he  said  he  was  afraid  I  was  making  a 
mistake  in  leaving  England,  for  the  Lord  had  blessed  me  so  greatly 
there;  everywhere  I  went  He  had  given  me  blessing,  which  he 
thought  ought  to  serve  as  a  clear  indication  that  my  work  was 
not  yet  done  in  England. 

I  admitted  it  all,  for  it  was  true;  but  down  deep  in  my  heart 
God  had  put  a  clear  conviction;  and  then  in  answer  to  prayer  had 
made  outward  circumstances  very  plain,  and  I  knew  well  that  it 
was  He  that  was  leading,  though  I  could  not  explain. 

So  when  he  saw  that  I  was  settled  in  my  decision,  and  when  I 
told  him  that  Miss  Drake,  the  lady  with  whom  I  was  going,  was 
going  overland,  he  said,  "By  all  means,  go  overland;  and  you 
must  see  all  of  Paris,  and  Rome,  and  the  continent  that  you  can." 

When  he  rose  to  go  he  gave  me  a  five  pound  note  and  said, 
"Now,  I  give  you  this  to  spend  going  about,  so  as  to  see  all  you 
can.     You  may  never  have  another  chance;" 

That  was  true.  I  never  expect  to  have  another  such  oppor- 
tunity. I  thanked  him  kindly,  but  thought  to  myself,  "I  don't 
mean  to  spend  twenty-five  dollars  sight-seeing." 

We  went  through  on  a  more  economical  scale.  But  I  saw 
what  I  called  many  wonderful  things,  through  the  kindness  of 
this  gentleman  and  other  friends,  for  I  had  asked  the  Lord 
definitely  to  open  a  way  for  me,  that  I  might  get  to  see  Paris  and 
Rome,  that  I  had  heard  so  much  about. 

My  going  to  India  came  about  in  this  way:  I  was  at  East- 
bourne, England.  Dear  Miss  Mason  has  a  very  pretty  home  at 
Eastbourne,  by  the  sea,  where  tired  Christian  workers  may  go  for 
a  little  change  and  rest,  just  as  she  has  in  London.  To  this  she 
invited  me  for  a  little  rest,  as  I  was  weary  and  needed  the  change. 
The  charge  was  very  moderate,  and  then  the  spiritual  help  was 
what  one  needs  so  much.  Praise  the  Lord  for  this  oasis  in  the 
desert.  Then  to  think  that  I  should  be  thus  highly  favored. 
But  it  is  the  Lord's  doings,  and  it  is  marvelous  in  our  eyes. 

While  at  Eastbourne  I  had  a  letter  from  my  friend,  Mrs.  Dr. 
Bordman,  in  London.  She  said,  "  Who  do  you  think  is  in  London, 
and  at  my  house?  Lucy  Drake.  She  is  on  her  way  back  to  India. 
She  was  delighted  to  hear  from  you,  and  wants  you  to  call  and  see 
her  on  your  way  to  Doncaster,  as  you  have  to  pass  through 
London." 


Amanda  Smith, 


283 


I  had  known  Miss  Drake  well  years  bofore;  and  I  was  so  plad 
to  sec  her  again.  I  caUed,  and  wo  had  a  pood  old-fashion.d  chat, 
and  a  season  of  prayer.  She  said  she  had  a  conviction  (hat  the 
Lord  wanted  me  to  go  to  India.  I  told  her  I  didn't  see  it  in  that 
light  at  all.  She  told  me  of  all  her  plans,  and  told  me  to  pray 
earnestly  for  light  on  my  own  path;  "  For,"  she  said,  "  Tm  (piite 
sure  the  Lord  wants  you  to  go." 

"I  have  so  much  work  to  do  here  in  England,"  I  said,  "and 
calls  are  coming  in  constantly  from  all  directions,  so  that.  I  could 
not  go. " 

"  If  the  Lord  wants  you  He  will  make  it  clear." 
"All  right." 

So  we  parted.  I  went  on  to  Perth,  Scotland.  A  few  days  after, 
I  had  a  letter  from  Miss  Drake,  saying,  "  The  Lord  has  made  it 
clear  to  me  for  you  to  go  to  India,  and  I  have  told  .some  friends, 
and  they  have  handed  me  some  money  for  you  for  your  e.xpenses.'' 
"Well,"  T  said,  as  1  read  the  letter,  "Miss  Drake  needn't  do 
that,  for  I  am  not  going  to  India  at  all." 

I  had  never  prayed  a  bit  about  it,  although  she  had  told  me 
to  do  so.  A  few  days  later  a  letter  came,  saying,  "  It  is  wonderful 
how  the  Lord  is  answering  prayer  about  your  going  to  India.  Dr. 
Mahan  has  just  come  in  and  handed  me  twenty  pounds  from  Lord 
Mount  Temple  toward  your  expenses." 

And  I  said,  as  I  stood  by  the  mantel  shelf,  reading  tht  letter, 
•'  I  know  the  reason  Miss  Drake  thinks  the  Lord  wants  me  to  go 
with  her  to  India;  she  is  alone,  and  she  doesn't  like  to  travel  alone, 
and  it  is  easy  to  see  the  Lord  in  it;  and  I  don't  care,  I  have  work- 
enough  to  do  now,  without  going  ofT  to  India;  and  I'm  not  going." 
Just  then  a  voice  seemed  to  say  to  me,  clear  and  distinct,  "  You 
have  been  saying  you  would  not  go  to  India  all  the  time,  and  you 
have  never  asked  the  Lord  what  His  will  is." 

"That  is  true,"  I  said,  "  Oh,  Lord,  forgive  me." 
There  was  no  one  in  the  dining  room,  and  just  in  the  corner 
by  the  mantel,  stood  an  old-fashioned  Scotch  arm  chair;  I  turned 
and  knelt  down  by  it.  and  burying  my  face  in  the  cushion,  and 
weeping,  I  prayed  the  Lord  to  forgi\i'  me  for  my  impertinence,  and 
if  He  wanted  me  to  go  to  India,  to  make  it  very  clear  and  plain  to 
me,  and  I  would  obey  Him,  and  leave  all  and  go.  Onlv  I  wanted 
to  be  sure  that  it  was  Himself  speaking. 

I  cannot  tell  how,  but  as  I  waited  before  Him,  He  made  it  as 


284  Autobiography  of 

plain  as  day  to  me  that  I  was  to  go.    I  praised  Him,  and  rose  from 
my  knees,  without  the  least  shadow  of  a  doubt  in  my  mind. 

I  had  an  engagement  at  Aberdeen,  which  I  saw  I  would  have 
time  to  fill  before  leaving.  My  other  engagements  I  canceled,  and 
explained  how  the  Lord  had  changed  me  about.  I  wrote  Miss 
Drake  and  told  her  I  would  go,  and  that  I  wanted  to  go  overland. 
Then  she  wrote  to  say  that  she  had  enough  means  if  I  went  all  the 
way  by  sea.  I  could  go  to  Liverpool  and  take  the  steamer  and 
meet  her  at  Suez.  I  wrote  and  told  her  I  believed  the  Lord  would 
let  me  go  overland,  and  so  see  Paris  and  Rome.  My!  how  the  let- 
ters flew! 

I  went  on  to  Aberdeen,  and  took  up  my  week's  services.  Then 
1  had  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Bordman  advising  me  to  go  by  sea  from 
Liverpool,  and  so  save  a  hundred  dollars;  but  I  must  let  Miss 
Drake  know  by  return  mail  whether  I  would  go  overland  or  by 
steamer  from  Liverpool,  as  she  must  telegraph  and  secure  the 
Titaterooms.  After  I  had  read  this  letter,  and  thought  it  all  over, 
I  arose  and  got  all  the  little  money  I  had,  and  counted  it  out;  it 
was  fifteen  or  sixteen  pounds. 

I  wanted  to  send  home  to  my  daughter,  who  was  in  school, 
three  months'  board,  and  that  would  take  it  nearly  all;  and  now  I 
must  give  an  answer  by  return  mail.  So  I  took  Mrs.  Bordman's 
letter,  and  the  money,  and  spread  them  on  the  bed,  and  got  down 
on  my  knees,  and  there  seemed  to  come  over  me  a  spirit  of  desper- 
ation and  faith  as  I  told  the  Lord.  I  said,  '*  Lord,  Thou  knowest 
my  heart;  how  I  have  longed  to  see  these  great  cities  and  the  con- 
tinent. And  now,  though  it  will  cost  more  to  go  overland  than  to 
go  all  the  way  by  sea,  yet  all  the  means  are  Thine,  and  I  am  Thy 
child;  and  if  it  can  please  Thee,  grant  me  this  desire." 

And  as  I  waited  before  the  Lord,  the  Spirit  whispered  these 
words  distinctly:  "  All  things  whatsoever  ye  ask  in  prayer  believ- 
ing, ye  shall  receive."  And  I  said,  "  Lord,  I  believe  you  will  give 
me  the  money  to  go  overland." 

And  I  arose  from  my  knees,  and  sat  down  and  wrote  by  return 
mail  and  said,  "Please  tell  Miss  Drake  to  secure  my  stateroom;  1 
will  go  overland  with  her." 

My  heart  was  as  light  as  a  feather.  My  dear  friend,  Miss 
Morris,  on  her  way  home  to  Doncaster,  stopped  in  London  to  see 
Miss  Drake,  before  I  got  there,  and  made  up  all  the  deficiency, 
and  then  she  wrote  and  said  how  sorry  she  was  that  I  had  not  told 
her  my  need. 


Amanda  Smith.  285 

"For,"  she  said,  "you  know.  Amanda,  I  have  always  told 
you  to  kl  me  kuovv  when  you  really  needed  ariythinij.  I  went  to 
see  Miss  Drake,  and  she  is  wry  nice,  and  1  like  hrr  very  much  I 
was  very  much  interested  in  all  she  told  me  of  h.r  work  in  India 
I  ask.d  her  to  tell  me  frankly  if  she  needed  any  help  for  you  in  any 
way  and  she  told  me  what  was  lacking;  on  the  expenses,  and  1  was 
so  glad  toijive  it  to  her." 

So  the  Lord  in  this,  verified  his  promise,  "All  things  what- 
soever ye  ask  in  prayer  believing,  ye  shall  receive."  Ithinklcansee 
now  that  God  wanted  me  in  Africa,  and  He  had  to  send  me  t./lnd  ^ 
to  educate  me  a  little  before  He  could  tell  me  to  go  to  Africa  Vm 
sure  If  He  had  told  me  in  Scotland  He  wanted  me  t(,go  to  Africa 
I  should  have  made  a  bee-line  for  the  United  States.    Bnt,  oh,  how 

t     uZ  '"'     ^  '^""  "''"'"^^'•'^  ^^'•'^•^•'  Him,  and  thank  Him 

for  all  the  great  privilege  of  seeing  what  I  did  on  the  continent 
and  in  Egypt.  How  wonderfully  He  answered  prayer  throu-^h 
these  uistrum^entalities.  First  of  all,  Miss  Drake,  and  then  Lo^d 
Mount  Temple  and  Miss  Morris,  and  Mr.  Clifford,  and  others. 
How  wonderful  it  all  seems. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

IN  PARIS  — ON  THE  WAY  TO  INDIA — FLORENCE  —  ROME  —  NAPLB8 — 

EGYPT. 

Saturday,  September  4th.  We  go  around  to  see  something  ot 
Paris.  My!  the  wonders;  not  strange,  perhaps,  to  others,  but  to 
me;  the  statuary,  and  parks,  and  buildings  were  lovely  to  behold. 

Sunday,  5th.  A  beautiful,  bright  morning.  My  heart  was 
full  of  praise  as  I  woke  and  looked  out  upon  the  beauty.  But  how 
sad  I  was  in  a  little  while  as  I  saw  the  buildings  going  up,  men 
hauling  stones,  laundries  open,  everything  just  like  Saturday. 
Others  were  going  to  church. 

"Oh,"  I  said,  "is  this  fashionable,  wicked  Paris,  to  which 
the  eyes  of  the  Christian  world  are  turned  for  their  first  fashions 
and  imitations?  "  And  as  I  thought  of  it  I  felt  sad.  At  church 
time  we  attended  the  Wesleyan  Church.  It  was  communion  Sun- 
day. The  minister  preached  a  grand  sermon  from  the  words: 
"Christ  gave  himself." 

Monday,  6th.  We  go  sight-seeing  again.  One  of  the  places 
which  interested  me  a  great  deal  was  the  porcelain  works.  There 
T  saw  where  this  beautiful  china  is  made.  And  as  the  man  turned 
the  different  articles  that  he  wished  to  make,  from  the  finest  little 
cup  to  the  largest  vase,  I  thought  what  complete  power  the  potter 
had  over  the  clay.  There  was  no  dictating  from  the  clay.  The 
potter  had  full  control.  At  one  time  he  would  take  a  piece  of  the 
clay  and  make  one  kind  of  an  article;  then  he  would  turn  the 
same  piece  of  clay  into  another  kind  of  an  article;  sometimes  a 
beautiful  pitcher,  then  a  mug,  then  a  basin,  and  in  all  shapes 
whatsoever  he  willed  he  made  the  clay.  And  then  he  showed  us 
some  with  the  most  exquisite  flowering  on  them  that  were  to  be 
put  in  the  furnace  at  a  certain  time,  and  the  fire  would  bring  out 
all  the  fine  pretty  marks  and  colors. 

(386) 


Amanda  Smith.  287 

As  I  stooil  :in(l  h.'.ircl  his  oxplanution,  my  heart  caught  fire; 
and  I  thought  how  much  that  is  like  the  blessed  Muster.  Somr- 
times  what  brings  out  the  beautiful  character  is  the  furnace.  And 
I  said,  "Oh,  Lord,  h.'lp  me  to  be  in  Tliy  liands  as  tliis  clay  is  in 
the  potter's  hands;  and  even  when  the  furnace  comes,  to  submit, 
and  not  dictate." 

"Pains,  furnace,  heat,  within  me  quiver; 

God's  breath  uptiu  the  llanie  dolh  blow; 
And  all  my  heart  within  me  quiy.-rs. 

And  trembles  at  th(^  fi.-ry  glow. 
Yet  I  say  trust  Ilim  as  God  wills. 
And  in  His  hottest  fire  hold  still." 

In  one  of  the  avenues  not  far  from  this  place  (I'm  sorry  I  can't 
remember  the  name),  a  very  wide  avenue,  with  beautifuf  trees  on 
either  side,  almost  making  an  arch,  there  were  long  rows  of  gypsy 
wagons,  with  everything  to  sell;  a  kind  of  fair— "Vanity  Fair." 
The  minute  I  saw  this  it  brought  to  my  mind  a  dream  that  I  had 
had  twenty-three  years  before.  Oh,  how  marvelous!  Everything 
was  almost  jusi  as  I  had  dreamed  it,  twenty-three  years  before! 

We  leave  Paris  at  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  travel  all 
night. 

Tuesday,  September  7th.  Reach  Turin  to-night  at  eight- 
thirty. 

Wednesday,  8th.  Leave  this  morning  for  Florence.  Reach 
there  at  nine  at  night.  Spend  the  next  day  sight-seeing.  As  we 
traveled  by  what  is  called  Cooke's  coupon  system,  which  is  very 
convenient,  and  gives  you  every  information  of  places  of  interest, 
etc.,  and  as  Miss  Drake  had  all  that  part  of  the  arrangement  to 
attend  to,  I  did  not  even  as  much  as  note  the  names  of  the  hotels 
where  we  stopped  in  my  diary,  only,  perhaps,  once,  though  I  was 
familiar  with  all  the  names  and  places  at  the  time. 

We  had  a  guide  giv.-n  us.  We  first  visited  the  great  Uffizi 
gallery,  with  its  wond.'rful  collection  of  works  of  art,  such  as  I  had 
never  seen  before,  and  never  shall  again.  Here  was  the  first  time 
I  ever  remember  hearing  the  name  of  the  great  painter,  Michael 
Angelo. 

There  was  so  much  that  was  beautiful,  that  I  could  take  in 
but  a  very  little  of  the  whole.  I  was  wond.-rfullv  struck  with  the 
bust  and  head  of  Nero  when  a  boy  of  tm  or  fourteen.     His  coun- 


288  AUTOBIOGBAPHT  OF 

tenance  was  sullen,  and  I  could  almost  see  him  as  he  decided 
against  Christians. 

The  next  place  we  went  to  was  the  National  Museum  and  gal- 
lery of  fine  arts.  Here  again  was  pointed  out  to  us  the  bust  of  the 
great  sculptor  and  painter,  Michael  Angelo,  who  is  held  in  loving, 
if  not  sacred  remembrance.  It  was  he  who  furnished  the  model 
for  the  great  dome  of  St.  Peter's  of  Rome.  All  this  was  new  to 
me,  and  some  things  I  had  heard  of  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear. 
But  could  it  be  that  I,  Amanda  Smith,  was  really  living,  and  at 
Florence,  Italy?  Many  times  while  they  were  talking,  and  the 
man  would  be  explaining  things,  I  was  lost  in  wonder,  love  and 
praise  at  the  Lord's  dealings  in  giving  me  the  privilege  to  enjoy 
so  much  that  I  never  expected  could  come  to  one  like  me.  Surely 
it  is  His  doings,  and  very  marvelous. 

Our  next  visit  was  to  the  Baptistry  of  St.  John's.  There  were 
those  beautiful  bronze  gates.  How  magnificent!  I  can  almost 
see  them  now  as  I  think  it  all  over.  Just  as  we  got  there  a  priest 
was  about  to  perform  the  ceremony  of  baptism  to  two  lovely 
babies.  Two  carriages  drove  up.  In  the  first  were  the  father  and 
mother,  with  the  bab}',  and  the  priest.  In  the  second  was  the 
party  with  the  other  baby.  They  were  exquisitely  dressed.  I 
thought  I  never  saw  such  lovely  looking  babies  in  my  life.  I 
would  like  to  have  just  taken  them  up  in  my  arms  and  kissed 
them.  They  looked  more  like  angels  than  children.  They  didn't 
seem  to  offer  any  objections  to  us  looking  on.  When  it  was  over  I 
saw  the  fathers  pay  the  priest  quite  a  sum  in  gold.  My  heart  was 
sad  for  the  little  things,  after  all;  for  I  thought  they  will  live  and 
die  without  the  true  light  and  knowledge  of  the  glorious  Gospel  of 
the  Son  of  God. 

Thursday,  September  9th.  We  leave  this  morning  for  Rome. 
Arrive  about  five  p.  M.  How  accommodating  and  courteous  they 
are  at  the  hotel.  We  got  on  splendidly.  Here  in  this  great  old 
historic  city  there  is  much  to  admire,  and  much  to  be  sad  for. 
Poverty  and  wealth  seem  to  rival  each  other.  I  think  I  got  some 
little  idea  what  it  meant  for  a  country  to  be  priest  ridden.  Every- 
where you  go,  up  and  down,  every  few  stations  on  the  railroad, 
every  train  you  get  off  of,  or  on,  priests;  all  through  the  streets, 
in  every  turn  you  make,  you  see  a  priest  coming  or  going;  or  two 
or  three  or  four;  scattered  in  every  direction,  priests.  I  never  saw 
so  many  priests  and  monks  in  my  life.     Old  men,  with  gray  hair, 


Amanda  Smith.  289 

who  had  lu'ver  dont'  a  day's  work  in  llu'ir  lives;  large,  well,  strong 
looking  men.  Some  of  them  looked  almost  like  idiots;  their  brain, 
and  muscle,  and  thought  had  never  been  developed.  They  had 
never  worn  stockings,  or  shoes.  They  wore  sandals,  and  just 
straight  gowns  of  the  coarsest  material,  with  a  cord,  a  piece  of 
common  clothes  line,  round  the  waist,  and  the  ends,  which  were 
lied  in  knots  to  keep  it  from  untwisting,  hung  almost  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  gown;  the  sleeves  were  long,  and  came  over  the  hands, 
something  like  the  Chinese  we  see  here. 

You  could  see  these  men,  in  any  numbers,  walking  about. 
Sometimes  you  would  see  them  leading  a  donkey,  with  a  load  of 
grass,  which  they  had  gathered,  and  were  bringing  into  town  to 
sell.  They  generally  visited  the  hotels,  with  a  little  bunch  of 
parsley,  and  an  onion,  and  a  carrot,  to  sell  as  pot  herbs.  How  1 
pitied  them  when  I  first  saw  them.  I  gave  them  some  pennies. 
Of  course,  I  didn't  take  the  pot  herbs;  I  didn't  need  them.  But  I 
soon  found  out  that  that  was  their  business.  I  never  saw  one  look 
clean.      Oh,  how  horrible! 

xVnd  these  are  the  men  they  call  holy,  because  they  give  up 
the  world,  and  practice  such  rigid  self-denial.  How  glad  I  am 
that  God  nowhere  teaches  that  men  have  to  go  into  filth  and 
indolence  in  order  to  be  holy.  But  He  does  say:  "  Cleanse  your- 
self from  all  filthiness  of  the  flesh  and  spirit  and  perfect  holiness 
in  the  fear  of  the  Lord."  This  is  always  the  way  when  men 
change  the  truth  of  God  for  a  lie,  and  begin  to  worship  and  adore 
the  creature  more  than  the  Creator. 

Sunday,  12th.  Miss  Drake  was  tired,  so  she  did  not  go  out 
to  church  in  the  morning.  But  I  wanted  to  have  it  to  say  that  I 
had  b»-en  to  church  in  Rome.  So  I  started  off  alone  to  the  nearest 
English  church.  The  schedule  of  the  princii)al  hotels  and 
churches  hangs  in  the  oflace;  so  I  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  it. 
So  I  w»'nt. 

I  found  it  was  a  High  Church,  almost  Roman  Catholic.  They 
had  candl.'S,  and  choir  boys,  and  they  turned  toward  the  east  and 
bow.-d,  and  the  atmosph.-re  seemed  like  a  vault.  All  this  was  new 
to  me,  for  I  had  never  b.-en  in  a  Protestant  High  Church  b.-fore. 
How  unsatisfying  all  this  to  one  who  knows  Christ.  For  Him 
there  is  no  substitute. 

Monday,  1st.  A  grand  day  sightseeing.  We  had  our  car- 
riage and  our  guide.     What  I  was  most  an.xious  to  see  was  St. 


290  Autobiography  of 

Peter's.  So  to  this  we  went  first.  The  magnificence  of  this  great 
historic  old  church  cannot  be  described  by  me.  As  we  walked 
through  its  large  corridors  and  halls,  and  as  I  stood  and  looked  up 
at  the  great  dome,  I  was  almost  awe-stricken.  It  seemed  as 
though  it  was  a  mile  away,  in  the  sky.  What  stupendous  thought 
had  been  put  into  its  architecture,  coloring,  and  statuary. 

A  little  to  the  right  of  the  main  entrance  was  a  statue  of  St. 
Peter,  in  bronze,  life  size.  I  had  heard  that  it  had  been  visited  by 
thousands  of  people,  and  that  the  great  toe  on  the  right  foot  had 
been  kissed  till  it  had  been  worn  quite  smooth.  I  went  up  and 
examined  it,  and  found  its  smoothness  really  a  fact;  but  whether 
the  result  of  constant  kissing,  or  whether  from  some  other  cause, 
I  cannot  say.  I  had  no  inclination  whatever  to  kiss  the  toe;  but 
I  laid  my  right  hand  on  it,  and  it  felt  cold.  I  said  to  myself,  as  I 
saw  many  come  in  and  stand  before  it,  and  cross  themselves  and 
pray,  ''  That  is  all  they  get  in  return  for  their  long  pilgrimages, 
and  their  prayers  and  tears."  How  sad!  How  glad  1  am  that  the 
lines  have  fallen  to  me  in  a  more  pleasant  place,  and  I  have  a 
goodly  heritage.     Praise  the  Lord! 

The  next  visit  was  to  the  Vatican  and  we  walked  through  the 
great  corridors,  and  admired  the  statuary  and  paintings,  and  my 
head  ached  with  seeing  so  much.  As  we  were  passing  down 
through  a  beautiful  walk  we  heard  some  one  shout  out  to  us  in  a 
language  we  did  not  understand;  but  they  motioned  to  us  to  get 
out  of  the  way,  and  we  stepped  aside,  and  there  came  the  Pope  in 
his  sedan  chair,  with  his  body  guard  of  seven  or  eight  men,  return- 
ing from  his  morning  outing;  some  were  walking  in  front  of  him, 
some  by  his  side,  and  others  behind.  And  I  thought  to  myself, 
*'  It  was  only  a  few  years  since  that  I  heard  the  infallibility  of  the 
Pope  was  declared. "  And  I  thought  if  infallibility  had  to  be  guarded 
like  that,  what  would  be  my  safety  in  trusting  in  it.  No.  My 
faith  is  in  the  infallibility  of  God  only. 

The  next  was  the  Coliseum,  with  its  ruined  walls.  As  the 
man  went  on  telling  us  the  great  stories,  and  pointing  out  things 
of  interest  and  explaining,  I  sometimes  wondered  if  all  he  said 
was  real  fact,  in  every  instance.  Butnoonequestions  the  veracity 
of  the  guides  when  one  is  sight-seeing.  They  are  supposed  to 
know  everything  you  ask  them,  of  course. 

He  told  us  of  the  great  arena  where  the  Christians  were  thrown 
in  and  devoured  by  the  starved  lions,  while  thousands  of  specta- 


Amanda  Smith.  201 

tors  were  gathered  in  tho  amphitheatre,  to  look  on,  witli  d.  li^rht. 
And  then  I  thought  of  Fox's  liook  of  Martyrs,  that  I  nm.mber 
Trading'  whrn  I  was  quite  a  jrirl,  and  somctim.'S  I  wond.-r  if  much 
of  the  spirit. of  the  a^'c  is  not  akin  to  it.  Christianity  has  done 
wonders.     HaUclujah! 

Then  tht- Appian  Way  was  pointed  out  tons,  and  the  guid*- said, 
•'That  is  the  very  road  on  which  they  brought  Paul  from  the 
prison  to  the  court."  There  was  the  very  floor,  inlaid  in  marblf, 
like  a  pavement,  on  which  he  said  Paul  stood  before  N.to. 

The  next  was  the  Catacombs.  We  went  down  about  six  feet 
under  ground,  and  entered  a  little  narrow  i)assage,  and  then  he 
lighted  tapers  and  gave  each  of  us  one.  Then  we  entered  a  very 
large  room;  and  on  the  clear,  solid  wall  were  beautifully  painted  a 
pulpit  and  altar,  and  nearly  all  the  ritual  of  an  English  church 
service.  The  colors  were  as  perfect  as  if  it  had  been  done  but  a 
little  while;  and  yet  it  was  more  than  two  hundred  years  old. 
There  were  shelves,or  niches,  cut  out  in  the  rock,  where  their  dead 
were  laid;  then  these  were  closed  up  by  masonry.  A  number  of 
the  bodies  had  been  taken  out  by  friends,  and  these  spaces  were 
open;  but  some  remained  still  closed  up.  They  had  to  go  in  and 
out  by  these  subterranean  passages,  quietly."  How  much  they 
must  have  suffered  for  His  name  in  those  dark  days  of  persecu- 
tion. As  I  thought  it  all  over,  I  said,  'Oh,  will  history  repeat 
itself?     May  God  in  mercy  deliver  us." 

I  was  foolish  enough  to  start  off  in  a  different  direction  from 
the  others,  alone;  though  the  guide  had  said  to  me  when  we  first 
went  in,  "Now  keep  close  to  me;  "  but,  as  he  stood  explainingand 
talking  to  Miss  Drake,  I  turned  into,  as  i  thought,  another  room. 
But  the  turns  were  very  intricate  to  one  who  does  not  know.  It 
all  seemed  to  me  as  the  same  hallway.  But  when  I  found  myself 
I  was  out  of  the  hearing  of  the  others  altogether.  1  kept  turning, 
but  didn't  .seem  to  come  near  them.  Then  I  began  to  get  fright- 
ened. Then  I  thought  I  would  stand  right  still;  and  so  I  did,  and 
prayed  the  Lord  to  help  me.  In  a  little  while  they  came,  looking 
for  me. 

The  guide  said  I  did  quite  right  to  stop,  for  then  they  came 
and  found  me.  If  I  had  gone  on  turning  they  might  have  missed 
me  entirely. 

My!  I  shudder  as  I  think  of  it.  But  he  never  had  to  tell  me 
to  keep  close  after  that.     What  a  lesson  I  harned.     I  shall  never 


292  Autobiography  of 

forget  it.  I  had  the  lighted  taper  in  my  hand,  but  I  should  have 
obeyed  my  guide,  and  kept  close,  as  he  had  told  me.  God  gives 
us  His  Spirit,  but  we  must  walk  in  the  light  of  the  Spirit;  then  we 
will  not  fulfill  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  going  in  our  own  way.  May 
He  help  us.     Amen! 

Wednesday,  September  15th.  We  leave  Rome  to-day  for 
Naples.  The  little  prayer  I  breathed  just  as  we  were  starting, 
was,  "Oh,  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  send  upon  Rome  the  mighty 
power  of  the  Holy  Ghost.     Let  the  people  be  awakened." 

We  reached  Naples  at  about  half  past  five  or  six  o'clock  p.  m. 
The  hotel  where  we  stopped  was  very  fine.  We  preferred  stopping 
at  a  hotel  where  English  was  mostly  spoken,  as  neither  Miss  Drake 
nor  1  were  familiar  with  the  French  language.  We  noticed  the 
city  abounded  with  churches;  and,  on  our  way  up  from  the  sta- 
tion in  the  'bus,  as  we  passed  several,  the  doors  being  open,  as  is 
usual,  we  could  see  persons  in  the  confession  boxes;  some  would  be 
coming  out,  and  others  going  in;  and  so  many  poor  people  seemed 
to  be  going  hither  and  yon;  and  monks  coming  and  going,  as  we 
saw  at  Rome.  After  we  had  our  supper,  as  we  were  very  weary, 
we  soon  retired. 

Thursday,  16th.  Up  early  this  morning,  feeling  quite  refreshed 
from  our  journey.  As  we  had  but  a  day  to  spend,  we  thought  we 
would  do  some  sight-seeing;  so  we  got  a  carriage  and  a  guide,  and 
drove  to  some  of  the  principal  points  of  interest.  The  most  inter- 
esting, to  me,  was  the  great  museum,  which  is  quite  elevated,  and 
off  in  the  distance  we  could  see  Mt.  Vesuvius  quite  distinctly. 
One  could  see  it  very  plainly  on  a  clear  day;  but  it  shows  very 
much  better  on  a  clear  night.  It  looks  like  a  great  burning  fur- 
nace in  the  distance.  Then  we  went  through  the  museum,  and 
there  we  saw  Pompeii  in  statuary,  as  it  was,  and  as  it  is,  in  ruins. 

I  had  heard  of  excavations  from  Pompeii,  and  had  read  some 
little  about  them,  but  now  I  stood  by  them.  Many  of  the  things 
which  were  explained  to  us  have  gone  from  my  memory  since 
then,  but  some  are  very  distinct.  I  remember  one  figure  showed 
a  baker;  there  he  stood  by  the  oven,  seemingly  just  in  the  act  of 
putting  in  bread;  there  was  the  table,  with  the  bread  and  pans,  all 
perfect.  Another  was  a  person  lying  on  a  sofa,  asleep.  There  were 
policemen  standing  at  the  gates  going  into  the  city,  all  perfect. 
All  this  seemed  to  me  so  wonderful;  and  when  the  man  was  explain- 
ing all  these  things  to  us,  sometimes  it  would  thrill  through  me 
with  sadness. 


Amanda  Smith.  293 

Naples  is  situated  at  the  head  of  the  bay  of  the  same  name. 
The  bay  is  beautifully  shaped,  something  like  a  horseshoe.  Round 
about  is  quite  mountainous;  so  at  certain  poigts  as  you  ascend 
these  mountains,  when  you  get  to  the  top,  you  can  look  off  in  thf 
distance,  and  around,  and  see  all  the  great  city  below  and  about 
you,  I  thought  it  was  very  beautiful;  and  I  kept  the  great  Mt. 
Vesuvius  in  my  mind  and  thought  for  days  together.  When  they 
told  me  of  the  red  hot  lava  which  this  historic  mount  belched  up  and 
sent  rolling  down  its  sides,  I  wondered  how  it  was  that  the  people 
seem»*d  to  be  in  such  peace  and  (piietness  as  they  were.  There  W(?re 
houses  very  near  the  base  of  the  mountain  as  we  looked  olf,  with 
patches  of  green  that  had  been  tilled  for  gardens,  or  what  not. 

No  one  seemed  to  be  annoyed  or  thoughtful  about  it;  and  I 
thought  how  easy  it  is  for  us  to  get  used  to  horrors  and  sadness. 

Aft<r  w.-  had  gone  about  a  great  deal,  we  drove  back  to  our 
hotel,  had  our  lunch,  and  a  little  rest,  and  then  took  another  short 
drive;  but  the  clouds  gathered,  and  a  little  misty  rain  came  up, 
so  we  did  not  go  very  far.  Then  Miss  Drake  began  to  get  a  little 
uneasy  to  know  when  the  steamer  would  leave  for  Alexandria, 
though  they  had  told  us  they  would  send  us  word;  but  as  we  were 
out  we  went  to  see,  and  there  I  lost  my  beautiful  umbrella.  A 
lady  in  England  had  given  me  a  sovereign,  and  said,  "  Mrs.  Smith, 
j'ou  must  get  you  a  nice  umbrella;"  so  while  I  was  at  Eastbourne 
I  saw  a  very  pretty  umbrella,  and  I  thought  I  must  do  as  I  was 
told,  and  I  got  it,  though  I  didn't  pay  quite  that  amount  for  it. 

After  we  had  bet'U  to  the  office  and  made  inquiries  about  the 
steamer,  and  were  satisfied,  we  returned  to  the  hotel.  The  rain 
had  stopped,  though  it  was  not  clear  yet,  so  I  set  my  umbrella 
down  in  the  carriage  beside  me,  and  when  I  got  out  I  never 
thought  of  it.  The  next  day,  just  as  we  got  on  board  the  steamer 
to  leave  for  Alexandria,  I  thought  of  my  umbrella.  I  i)aid  a  man 
a  dollar  to  go  back  for  it.  It  was  an  hour  or  two  before  the 
steamer  would  leave.  He  was  very  polite  and  kind,  and  was  surely 
going  to  bring  it;  but  when  he  came  back  he  said  he  could  not 
find  the  man,  but  if  I  would  give  him  another  dollar  he  would  go 
where  he  thought  the  man  had  gone!  But  I  saw  there  was  game 
in  that  arrangement,  so  I  told  him  he  needn't  mind.  Then  he 
said  he  would  send  it  to  me,  and  I  saw  there  was  more  game.  I 
was  vt^ry  sorry  to  lose  my  nice  umbrella,  but  it  was  so  good  that 
thf  Lord  kept  my  heart  very  quiet. 


294  Autobiography  op 

Friday,  Sept.  17th,  1879.  We  are  on  the  steame'r  for  Alexan* 
dria.  They  said  if  you  made  up  your  mind  not  to  be  seasick,  you 
would  not  be  seasick;  and  so  I  made  up  my  mind,  and  my  mind 
made  up  its  mind  that  it  would  not  hold  still,  and  I  was  just  as 
seasick  as  I  could  be. 

Sunday,  19th.  A  lovely  morning;  so  quiet.  I  am  better, 
praise  the  Lord.  They  told  us  when  we  were  leaving  Paris  that 
we  must  not  touch  water  on  the  continent;  that  the  water  was 
very  bad,  and  everybody  drank  wine.  And  on  the  steamer  they 
drank  wine  like  water;  the  children  and  all  drank  wine;  I  expected 
to  see  everybody  drunk,  and  I  had  a  little  queer  feeling  come  over 
me.  I  thought,  "Dearie  me,  whai  a  time  we  will  have  if  these 
people  get  to  rowing." 

Ladies  and  gentlemen,  children,  fathers  and  mothers,  all 
drank  wine,  but  they  didn't  seem  to  get  out  of  the  wa}'.  When 
we  sat  at  the  table  and  chose  water  instead  of  wine,  they  looked  at 
us  in  astonishment.  Then  I  asked  how  it  was  they  could  all  drink 
so  much  wine  and  not  get  drunk.  They  said  it  was  light  wine  and 
would  not  intoxicate.  And  then  I  wondered  if  that  was  not  the 
snare  so  many  got  in;  beginning  with  the  innocent  light  wine,  and 
ending  up  with  that  that  is  full  of  weights  that  hold  them  down, 
so  that  when  they  would  rise  they  cannot. 

Well,  Miss  Drake  and  I  got  through  without  touching  either 
the  light  or  the  stronger  wine,  and  we  never  had  a  moment's  sick- 
ness, outside  of  the  simple  seasickness,  with  all  of  our  fatigue  and 
weariness,  for  sight-seeing  is  wearisome,  especially  when  done  in  a 
rush,  as  we  did  it,  and  the  like  of  which  I  never  want  to  do  again. 
Our  steamer  was  due  on  the  twenty-fourth,  so  we  had  no  time  to 
delay. 

Monday,  20th.  The  morning  is  bright  and  pleasant.  My 
morning  thought  is,  "Oh,  Christ,  Thou  art  a  reality;  make  me 
more  like  Thyself." 

How  balmy  the  air,  and  how  bright  the  sunshine!  So  differ- 
ent from  England.  The  passengers  on  board  are  very  kind  and 
polite.  I  think  the  French  have  the  first  rank  among  all  the 
nations  in  this  particular.  As  far  as  I  have  seen  it  seems  to  be 
natural  to  them,  children  and  all.  It  is  no  effort  to  be  polite  and 
courteous.  Even  in  Rome  I  noticed  in  the  railway  'bus,  where  it 
was  rather  crowded,  when  I  stepped  in  a  beautiful  little  lad  arose 
and,  with  a  smile  and  tipping  his  hat,  he  pointed  me  to  his  seat. 


Amanda  Smith.  295 

In  Paris  I  was  walking  through  tlir  park  one  day  and  Ihoro  were 
numh.TS  of  children  playing,  and  one  litlh;  fallow  sitting  on  a  scat 
noar  by,  and  as  I  stood  looking  at  the  beauty  around,  he  at  once 
arose  and,  with  a  beautiful  air  and  tip  of  the  hat,  offered  me  his  seat. 
It  was  so  beautiful,  so  different  from  what  one  sees  at  home.  I 
came  near  shouting  right  out,  "Praise  the  Lord!  " 
Tuesday,  21st. 

"Precious  promise  God  hath  given 
To  the  weary  passer  by." 

Praise  the  Lord!  "  My  soul,  wait  thou  on  God.  My  expecta- 
tion is  from  Him."  We  are  nearing  Alexandria,  Egypt.  The 
great  old  historic  Egypt!  Egypt  that  I  have  read  of  in  the  Biblr! 
Can  it  be  possible? 

Ten  A.  M.  Here  we  are  in  the  bay.  Praise  the  Lord.  And 
who  are  these  men  coming  off  in  the  boats?  There  are  four  or 
five  boats,  all  manned,  each  with  six,  eight,  ten  or  twelve  men  — 
black  men  —  my  own  race.  I  had  been  so  long  without  seeing  any 
of  my  own  people  that  I  felt  like  giving  three  cheers! 

I  never  saw  such  scientific  rowing  in  my  life.  They  stood  up 
instead  of  sitting  down,  but,  Oh,  how  perfectly  they  bent  to  their 
oars.  They  had  on  little  red  skull  caps,  with  black  tassels  on  the 
top,  and  neat  black  alpaca  coats.  I  presume  they  were  Moham- 
m»'dans,  as  they  dres.sed  just  like  the  Mohammedans  in  India. 
Many  of  them  were  fine  looking  men,  black  as  silk  and  straight  as 
arrows,  well  developed,  and  independent  as  kings.  They  moved 
about  and  did  the  business  intelligently,  and  with  promptness  and 
ease.  They  didn't  know  what  it  was  to  crouch  to  any  man.  I 
felt  proud  that  I  belonged  to  that  race  when  I  saw  such  nobility 
in  ebony.  Then  I  thought  of  the  passage  in  the  Old  Testament 
history:  "Princes  shall  come  out  of  Egypt."  Then  I  r.'mem- 
bered  it  was  the  birthplace  of  Mo.ses,  and  the  hiding  place  of  the 
infant  Jesus  from  the  cruelty  of  H.Tod,  th.'  king.  And  out  of  all 
the  world  round  it  plea.sed  God  to  bestow  this  great  honor  on  the 
black  race,  which  ought  to  be  held  in  everlasting  remembrance. 
And  I  prefer  being  black,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  to  share  this 
great  honor  with  my  race. 

After  a  good  night's  rest  we  went  to  visit  the  great  pyramids, 
which  was  a  drive  of,  I  think,  about  four  miles  out  of  the  city  of 
Alexandria.     We  made  all  our  arrangements  over  night. 


296  Autobiography  op 

Next  morning  everything  was  prompt  and  we  were  called  in 
time,  and  our  breakfast  was  ready  promptly  at  five,  so  that  we  nad 
plenty  of  time,  and  at  six  we  were  off.  I  thought  Alexandria  — 
what  we  saw  of  it  —  was  a  beautiful  city.  Many  of  the  houses 
were  large  and  spacious,  and  there  were  large,  fine  hotels.  I  for- 
get the  name  of  the  hotel  where  we  stopped,  and  on  what  avenue 
it  was,  but  it  was  a  wide  avenue  through  the  center  of  the  town. 
Just  opposite  this  hotel  was  a  much  larger  one;  it  covered  almost 
a  half  block.  There  were  large  ice  cream  parlors  below,  and  the 
awnings  came  out  over  the  sidewalk.  It  was  beautifully  lighted 
and  they  had  exquisite  music,  and  English  ladies  and  gentlemen 
were  sitting  out  round  the  ice  cream  tables,  and  it  really  seemed 
more  like  England  or  America  than  Egypt.  How  sorry  I  was, 
when  in  Africa,  to  hear  of  the  sacking  and  burning  of  Alexandria 
at  the  time  of  the  great  Afghan  war. 

We  were  told  that  there  were  some  missionaries  who  had  got 
pretty  well  established,  and  were  doing  good  work.  But,  Oh,  war 
is  so  destructive  and  demoralizing  in  its  sweep.  And  probabl}^  all 
that  had  been  gained  at  this  time  was  lost  again. 

On  our  way  to  the  pyramids  our  drive  was  over  the  same  road 
that  had  been  especially  built  for  the  Prince  of  Wales  when  he 
visited  Alexandria  a  year  or  two  before,  and  but  for  this  royal 
visit  our  drive  to  the  pyramids  would  have  been  very  rough. 

This  was  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  of,  or  saw,  the  eucalyptus 
tree.  All  along  the  royal  highway,  on  either  side,  were  these  trees; 
they  had  grown  up  and  formed  a  high  archway;  it  was  very  beauti- 
ful, and  one  felt  inclined  to  lingei*  in  its  shade  out  of  the  hot  sun. 

I  think  I  got  a  little  idea  of  what  Paul  meant  when  he  said, 
"Lay  aside  every  weight  and  run  the  race  with  patience."  I 
never  saw  such  pretty,  scientific  running  in  all  my  life,  as  certain 
men  there  did.  They  were  tall,  lank  looking  fellows;  on  the  head 
they  wore  a  simple  white  skull  cap,  and  around  the  body  a  light, 
white  cloth,  of  about  three  or  four  yards  in  length,  the  weight  of 
which  would  be  very  little  over  a  pound;  under  this  would  be, 
fitting  close  to  their  bodies,  a  little  jacket  with  long  sleeves,  and 
made  of  the  same  material,  or  perhaps  a  little  bit  stronger.  Their 
business,  or  profession,  was  begging.  When  our  carriage  had  got 
just  outside  the  city  there  started  after  us  a  half  dozen  or  more  of 
these  gentlemen,  shouting  as  they  ran,  "Backsheesh"  (give  me  a 
penny),  "backsheesh,  backsheesh." 


Amanda  Smith.  297 

Our  guide,  who  sat  with  the  drivvr.  to  iK)int  out  and  rxplain 
everything  to  us,  warned  us  against  giving  these  gentlemen  any- 
thing. He  said  if  we  encouraged  them  the  h-ast  bit  they  would 
annoy  us  so  we  could  not  get  rid  of  them. 

But  then  they  were  so  very  jMjlite,  and  bowed  so  gracefully, 
and  ran  so  nicely,  and  they  i)atted  their  stomachs  andoi)»'n<M  their 
mouths  to  say  they  were  hungry,  and  their  stomachs  were  empty, 
and  1  i)itied  thrm.  The  guide  saw  I  was  rather  stuck  on  them, 
and  he  kept  his  »>ye  on  me  pretty  close  for  awhile;  but  he  turned 
his  head,  when  he  thought  I  was  pretty  thoroughly  converted 
after  all  he  had  said  and  explained,  and  I  dropped  a  few  pennies 
for  these  poor  fellows — about  five  cents  of  our  money — and  such 
a  rush  and  yell  I  never  saw  or  heard.  Then  I  did  get  a  little  scared. 
He  said,  "I  told  you  that  if  you  gave  them  anything  you  would 
be  annoyed." 

Poor  Miss  Drake  didn't  know  what  I  did;  she  declared  she 
hadn't  given  them  a  cent;  and  I  tried  to  look  strange  and  blank. 
She  said,  "  Did  you  give  them  anything,  Amanda?" 

"Oh,  I  only  threw  out  a  few  pennies,"  I  replied. 

So  the  cat  was  out;  and  though  our  horses  were  under  good 
speed,  our  driver  touched  them  up,  and  we  went  on  faster;  and 
these  gentlemen  touched  up,  and  came  on  faster,  but  they  did  it 
so  gracefully  and  beautifully. 

"Well,"  I  thought,  "I  have  done  it  now." 

Finally  they  began  to  drop  off  one  at  a  time  till  we  were  left 
with  but  two;  these  accompanied  us  to  the  pyramids,  and  offered 
to  run  up  to  the  top  for  sixpence,  if  we  would  give  it  to  them.  I 
thought  it  was  about  worth  that  to  go  up  to  the  top  of  that  huge 
pile  of  stone,  for  that  was  what  it  seemed  like;  but  I  couldn't 
make  the  offer,  for  I  had  done  enough;  so  they  ran  up  a  little  ways 
and  came  back. 

We  walked  about  a  little,  and  looked  into  the  .tomb  where 
they  said  the  wife  of  a  king  was  buried;  there  was  nothing  in  the 
looks  of  it  that  was  specially  interesting. 

Then  I  saw  the  great  sphinx.  I  used  to  wonder  what  it  was; 
but  now  my  curiosity  was  satisfied.  We  spent  about  two  hours, 
and  then  drove  back  to  Alexandria,  and  at  two  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon we  left  for  Suez. 

Suez,  Egypt.  The  hotel  where  we  stopped  was  kept  by  an 
Englishman,  and  most  of  the  guests  were  English.     I  had  no  diffi- 


296  Autobiography  of 

culty  on  account  of  my  color;  everybody  acted  naturally  and  with 
common  sense. 

At  dinner  I  noticed  two  gentlemen,  who  sat  opposite  us;  they 
looked  familiar  to  me.  I  thought  they  might  be  Americans,  I 
noticed  they  looked  at  me  very  sharply,  and  as  though  they  would 
like  to  speak,  but  they  did  not,  and  I  felt  like  I  would  like  to 
speak  to  them;  but  then  I  thought,  "They  are  strangers;  they 
seem  as  though  they  know  me;  but  can  it  be  that  anybody  in 
Egypt  knows  Amanda  Smith?  " 

I  said  to  Miss  Drake,  "  I  am  sure  I  know  those  gentlemen,  but 
I  don't  like  to  speak  to  them." 

The  next  morning  we  met  again,  and  Mr.  Leech  (for  that  was 
the  name  of  one  of  the  gentlemen)  came  up  and  spoke  to  me,  and 
said,  "  Is  not  this  Amanda  Smith?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said. 

"I  thought  last  night  it  was  you;  indeed,  I  was  quite  sure; 
but  after  dinner  I  went  to  the  office  and  looked  at  the  register  and 
saw  your  name." 

They  were  two  ministers  from  Newcastle-on-Tyne;  one  a 
Presbyterian,  and  the  other  a  Congregationalist.  Both  of  them 
had  helped  me  in  the  meetings  that  I  held  at  Newcastle,  at  Mr. 
Lambert's  hall.  I  introduced  them  to  Miss  Drake,  and  they  were 
so  nice  they  made  it  very  pleasant  for  us. 

They  had  been  to  Alexandria,  and  now  were  in  Suez,  on  their 
way  home  to  England.  They  took  this  little  trip  of  two  or  three 
weeks  on  their  vacation.  They  told  us  of  the  great  Mahommedan 
school  at  Alexandria,  which  they  had  visited,  of  eight  hundred 
students,  studying  the  Koran.  It  is  the  largest  college  in  the 
world  where  all  the  students  study  one  thing.  They  said  it  was 
a  wonderful  sight  to  see  them;  they  all  sit  on  mats  on  the  floor  (all 
men  or  boys),  and  they  rock  themselves  back  and  forth,  and  study 
aloud,  so  that  the  din  is  something  fearful!  They  are  supposed  to 
commit  the  whole  of  the  Koran  to  memory.  How  I  should  like  to 
have  seen  that  school.  But  we  hadn't  much  time.  So  that  was 
one  of  the  things  we  missed. 

These  gentlemen,  whom  I  have  mentioned,  had  a  day  with  us 
before  their  steamer  came;  so  they  walked  out  with  us,  and 
showed  us  different  places.  What  was  very  interesting  to  me,  was 
the  way  they  did  their  irrigating.  I  had  never  seen  it  in  this 
fashion  before; 


Amanda  Smith.  299 

Thorr  were  lar^M-  plots  «)f  ^touikI  laid  out,  as  far  as  your  eye 
could  s»'e.  TluTi'  were  old-lashioncd  pumps,  such  as  Ihcy  had  a 
huiulriHl  years  ago,  I  suppose;  then  there  were  long,  wooden 
trougiis  holding  to  the  trenches,  about  five  and  ten  feet  apart;  they 
would  pump  the  water  into  these  troughs,  and  it  would  run  and 
fill  up  all  the  trenches,  and  then  the  women  and  children  would 
stand  on  either  side  of  the  beds,  and  with  their  hands  throw  the 
water,  and  so  water  the  beds.  Oh,  how  hard  and  tedious!  But 
then  they  nev«'r  thought  of  doing  any  other  way  than  the  way 
their  fathers  did       That  was  all  thry  cared  to  know. 

The  onions  and  salads  and  walrr  cress  raised  in  these  gardens 
were  very  green  and  nice.  How  my  heart  turned  to  God  in  prayer 
for  poor  Egypt.  Only  God  can  change  the  hearts  of  these  people 
here,  and  make  the  desert  blossom  as  the  rose.  Lord,  once  more, 
send  light  and  help  to  Egypt! 

When  God  called  Jesus  out  of  Egypt  from  the  wrath  of  Herod 
the  king,  and  when  the  light  had  gone  out,  darkness  settled  down 
on  Egypt,  and  still  lingers.  If  the  light  that  is  in  you  become 
darkness,  how  great  the  darkness! 

Our  steamer  was  due  at  Suez  on  Thursday,  but  it  did  not  come 
until  Sunday.  We  had  these  days  to  wait.  I  was  rather  glad,  for 
I  thought  I  never  was  so  tired  in  my  life.  But  still  if  we  had 
known  the  steamer  would  not  come  till  Sunday,  we  could  have 
gone  up  to  Jerusalem.  These  gentlemen  told  us  we  could  go  in 
twenty-four  hours  by  stage. 

Parties  went  up  that  way  often;  but  they  made  all  the 
arrangements  a  day  or  two  ahead;  which  we  might  have  done, 
and  got  back  by  Saturday  night.  That  was  the  nearest  to  Jeru- 
salem that  I  ever  was,  and  ever  will  be  again,  until  I  get  to  the 
Jerusalem  above,  I  suppose.  However,  there  is  nothing  impossi- 
ble, and  now  that  the  railroad  is  there  I  would  not  be  surprised  to 
find  myself  going  up  on  the  train  some  day,  especially  if  God 
said  so. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

INDIA — NOTES  FROM  MY  DIARY  —  BASSIM  —  A  BLESSING  AT  FAMILY 
PRAYER  —  NAINI  TAL  —  TERRIBLE  FLOODS  AND  DESTRUCTION 
OF  LIFE. 

We  sailed  from  Suez  Oct.  26th,  1879,  for  Bombay,  and  arrived 
at  our  destination  Nov.  12th.  I  remained  at  Bombay  until  Jan. 
1st,  1880,  visiting,  in  the  meantime,  various  places  where  M.  E. 
Churches  have  been  established,  and  holding  meetings  as  oppor- 
tunity offered. 

Miss  Drake  remained  in  Bombay,  and  I  had  for  a  traveling 
companion  for  some  time  afterwards.  Miss  Jennie  Frow,  a  mis- 
sionary stationed  at  Chaculdah,  who  had  been  on  a  visit  to  Bom- 
bay, and  now  was  returning  to  her  work. 

January  1st,  1880.  The  Lord's  Word  to  me  this  morning  is, 
"  Lo,  I  am  with  you  always. "  I  leave  for  Cawnpore.  Watch  night 
at  Dr.  Thoburn's  church  at  Calcutta.  I  dine  with  Brother  Good- 
win, and  the  Stones,  of  Ohio. 

Monday,  5th.  Cawnpore.  Praise  the  Lord  for  this  quiet  day 
of  rest.  A  nice  drive  to  Memorial  Gardens.  What  a  sad  fate  that 
of  those  who  sleep  there !  How  dreadful  the  story  of  the  Cawnpore 
well,  where  so  many  were  massacred  and  thrown  in  at  the  time  of 
the  great  Indian  mutiny. 

Wednesday,  7th.  Conference  opens  to-day.  A  solemn  but 
blessed  time.  The  meeting  of  so  many  friends.  How  mucn  it 
seemed  like  home  to  me.  Praise  the  Lord!  My  head  is  very 
tired,  but  my  soul  is  fresh. 

Thursday,  22nd.  Allahabad.  Spend  the  day  with  Brother 
Dennis  Osborn, 

Saturday,  24th.  My  last  Saturday  in  Alahabad.  We  go  to 
the  Maila.  It  is  like  what  we  would  call  in  this  country  a  fair. 
Oh,  the  hundreds  of  people.     Oh,  to  see  the  heathen  idol  worship! 

(300) 


Amanda  Smith.  301 

How  Slid  Id  Sff  llir  cUfftTeiit  idols  they  worship  displayed  on  their 
Mail's  and  in  esery  i}ossible  shap»*  and  way.  My  heart  ached,  and 
I  prayed  to  the  Lord  to  send  help  and  light  to  these  poor  heathen. 

Friday,  Feb.  13ih.  Dear  Jennie  Frow  is  not  so  well  lo-day. 
God  bless  her!  It  is  now  Jennie  Fuller.  She  was  married  since 
then.  We  leave  to-day  for  Naj^pore.  Praise  God  for  His  threat 
care  over  us  durinj^^  the  night.  We  had  to  drive  with  the  bullocks 
this  fifty-one  miles  back  to  Acola.  They  had  been  mending  the 
road,  and  there  was  a  great  deep  gutter  about  a  quarter  of  a  milt- 
in  length.  We  had  to  change  our  bullocks  three  times;  a.nd  the 
third  time  we  thought  we  had  got  a  very  stupid  driver;  we  got  to  a 
place  where  the  bullocks  would  not  go  on,  and  the  man  seemed  to 
be  stupid.  Poor  Miss  Frow  remonstrated,  and  told  him  to  go  on; 
but  the  bullocks  would  not  go;  so  wa-  thought  we  would  get  out, 
and  see  what  was  the  matter.  It  was  very  dark,  and  there  were  no 
lights;  and  when  we  got  out  and  walked 'alwad  two  or  three  yards 
we  saw  the  great  danger  we  were  in;  if  the  bullocks  had  gone  on, 
they  would  have  surely  broken  their  necks,  and  we  might  have 
been  killed.  Oh,  how  we  praised  the  Lord  when  we  saw  the 
danger  that  God  had  saved  us  from.  Then  we  had  to  turn  the 
bullocks  down  on  the  lower  road. 

There  are  generally  two  roads;  a  native  road,  and  an  English 
road;  the  English  roads  were  better,  as  a  rule;  they  generally  kept 
in  their  i)rovinces  good  roads;  we  were  on  the  English  road,  so  we 
had  to  turn  out  and  go  down  on  the  native  road,  which  was  very 
rough,  because  they  never  mended  them,  or  made  any  repairs  on 
them. 

Sunday,  22nd.  A  meeting  at  Camp  Te  to-night.  The  Lord 
helped  me  this  once.  He  led  me  to  give  my  experience,  and  I  had 
great  liberty,  and  he  made  it  a  blessing.  We  leave  for  Eleg>?pore. 
I  feel  I  ought  to  stay.  There  was  such  an  interest  manifested  in 
the  grand  aftermeeting. 

Col.  Whillock  was  a  very  earnest  Christian  gentleman;  he  had 
a  very  beautiful  little  daughter,  and  one  night  when  we  were  hold- 
ing meeting  in  a  large  hall  (he  always  took  an  interest  in  any 
religious  meeting,  which  was  not  very  customary  among  English 
soldiers),  his  little  daughter,  about  ten  years  old,  became  very 
much  interested,  and  when  I  asked  them  to  rise  for  prayers,  among 
others  in  the  great  congregation,  this  little  girl  rose;  and  the  Lord 
blessed  her;  she  seemed  very  happy  and  bright.     Her  fatlu-r  was 


303  Autobiography  of 

delighted  with  her  decision;  the  mother,  too;  but  still  she  was 
afraid  she  did  not  understand  what  she  was  doing.  But  the  little 
thing  persisted,  and  had  the  sympathy  and  help  of  her  father.  So 
she  would  have  her  mother  come  to  me  next  day,  and  I  had  a  ver3' 
nice  Christian  talk  with  her,  and  told  her  how  she  might  help  the 
little  child,  and  she  seemed  very  much  pleased. 

The  child  acted  out  her  position  by  beginning  to  do  some- 
thing. Her  mother  kept  a  Hindoo  derz}';  a  man  who  does  all  the 
sewing  and  mending  and  everything  of  the  kind,  in  a  family. 
Some  of  them  have  two  or  three.  You  will  find  them  in  almost 
every  family  in  India.  All  the  clothes  to  be  made  or  mended 
are  given  to  these  men,  and  they  sit  down  in  a  corner  that  is 
arranged  for  them,  and  do  the  sewing.  They  come  and  go,  morn- 
ing and  evening,  and  are  very  quiet.  They  never  pass  about 
through  the  house  only  at  their  work.  This  one  had  been  living 
with  them  a  long  time,  and  was  a  pucka  Hindoo;  that  is,  what  we 
would  call  strong,  or  rank,  or  staunch  in  their  faith. 

So  little  Ethel  began  to  tell  him  about  what  Jesus  could  do; 
and  as  she  could  talk  the  native  language  as  well  as  a  native,  he 
listened  to  her;  and  she  kept  it  up  till  he  got  so  interested  he  asked 
her  for  a  Testament;  and  so  she  got  a  Testament,  and  made  the  old 
man  promise  that  he  would  read  it.  He  was  greatly  pleased 
with  it. 

Who  knows  but  what  that  child,  though  but  ten  years  old, 
who  was  the  means  of  getting  that  Hindoo  to  read  the  Testament, 
was  sent  by  God  with  light  to  this  poor,  dark  mind. 

*'  It  may  not  be  my  way, 
It  may  not  be  thy  way; 
But  yet,  in  His  own  way, 
The  Lord  will  provide." 

When  we  went  to  leave,  Mrs.  Whitlock  gave  me  a  very  hand- 
some India  shawl,  and  prepared  us  a  beautiful  lunch,  and  in  so 
many  ways  was  kind.  In  the  lunch,  she  put  two  loaves  of  bread, 
a  half  dozen  boiled  eggs,  six  bottles  of  lemonade,  a  bottle  of  cham- 
pagne, a  bottle  of  wine,  and  I  don't  know  what  all  else;  but  she 
sent  a  man  with  a  note  on  Sunday  afternoon,  and  this  beautiful 
basket  of  lunch. 

My!  what  a  time  I  had  over  it.  I  couldn't  send  it  back.  The 
shawl  was  an  elegant  thing.     U  was  about  a  twenty-five  dollar 


Amanda  Smith.  303 

shawl.  The  only  objection  I  had  to  it,  was,  it  was  scarlet.  But, 
still,  that  was  not  much,  for  I  could  gt'i  it  dyed.  But,  I  thought 
to  myself,  "What  will  I  do  with  this  wine  and  brandy?"  1  knew 
Miss  Frow  would  not  touch  it,  and  I  was  a  staunch  teetotaler,  "  If 
I  take  it  and  say  nothing  about  it,  she  may  think,  and  tell  some- 
body, that  I  was  a  good  woman,  and  yet  I  accepted  it,"  and  I 
didn't  know  what  to  do. 

So  I  prayed  about  it  very  earnestly.  The  enemy  wanted  ti. 
make  me  believe  that  she  would  be  greatly  offended,  and  that  now 
I  would  undo  all  the  good  work  that  I  might  have  done.  Oh,  how 
terribly  tempted  I  was  over  that! 

Sunday  night  was  my  last  night.  I  spoke  at  the  hall. 
And  that  was  the  night  I  had  promised  to  speak  more  espec- 
ially of  temperance.  But  then  I  had  received  a  bottle  of  wine  and 
a  bottle  of  champagne.  So  the  Devil  suggested  to  me  that  nobody 
would  know  it,  and  now  if  Col.  and  Mrs.  Whitlock  were  there,  it 
would  be  better  for  me  not  to  say  anything  about  it,  after  they 
had  been  so  very  kind,  and  that  they  did  not  see  it  like  T  did.  So 
I  reasoned. 

At  last  I  resolved  by  the  grace  of  God  I  would  tell  Mrs.  Whit- 
lock that  I  could  not  have  it,  and  would  go  on  and  speak  on  tem- 
perance in  the  meeting,  as  I  had  intended.  So,  when  the  time 
came,  I  went  to  church. 

Just  as  I  got  to  the  door  going  in,  I  met  Col.  and  Mrs.  Whit- 
lock, and  little  Ethel;  so  I  very  kindly  thanked  the  lady  for  the 
elegant  shawl,  and  for  the  lunch  which  she  had  .sent  me;  but  then, 
I  said,  "Now  what  will  I  do  with  the  bottle  of  champagne  and 
the  wine?  for  I  am  a  staunch  teetotaler;  I  never  touch  it." 

"  Mi.ss  Frow  looks  so  pale,"  she  said,  "  I  thought  a  little  wine 
would  do  her  good." 

"But,  Oh,"  I  said,  "she  would  not  touch  it  for  the  world. 
She  is  also  a  staunch  teetotaler." 

Then  she  laughed,  and  said,  "You  do  with  it,  Mrs.  Smith, 
anything  you  like." 

I  thanked  her  very  kindly,  and  told  her  I  would. 
The  Lord  gave  me  liberty  in  speaking  that  night,  and    I  was 
very  strong  on  the  subject  of  temperance.      No  one  was  oflfended. 
Everybody  seemed  to  be  much  interested  and  pleased. 

We  went  from  there  up  to  Chaculdah.  That  was  Miss  Frow's 
station.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sibley  were  there  in  charge  of  this  station, 
and  she  was  their  assistant. 


304  Autobiography  op 

What  a  pleasant  time  we  had  at  Chaculdah.  There  was  a 
poor,  old,  native  Christian  woman  who  was  very  ill.  She  had  been 
a  very  faithful  servant  in  a  Eurasian  family  for  years;  but  because 
of  great  persecution  from  her  own  people  on  account  of  caste, 
though  she  believed  in  Christianity,  she  never  came  out.  But 
when  she  got  feeble,  and  sick,  and  very  bad  off,  she  went  over  to 
Mrs.  Sibley's  instead  of  going  to  her  own  people;  she  wanted  to  be 
a  Christian;  and  they  put  her  in  a  little  house  where  she  was  very 
comfortable. 

She  was  very  fond  of  Miss  Frow.  So  the  first  thing  we  did 
after  we  got  home  and  rested  a  little,  we  went  in  to  see  this  old 
woman.  Oh,  how  emaciated  she  was!  so  worn;  and  she  was  dying; 
but  she  seemed  to  be  happy.  Miss  Frow  talked  and  prayed  with 
her. 

When  we  went  out  I  said  to  Miss  Frow: 

"How  would  it  do  to  give  this  woman  (she  is  dying  anyhow) 
a  little  of  that  wine?" 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "I  wouldn't  dare  to  do  it.  She  used  to  like 
it  very  much.  They  used  to  have  it,  of  course,  in  the  families 
where  she  had  been  so  long,  and  she  had  got  to  like  it,  and  it 
might  be  the  means  of  diverting  her  mind.  I  had  rather  she 
would  die  without  it." 

So  there  I  had  it  to  contend  with. 

In  a  few  days  the  old  woman  passed  away.  That  was  the  first 
native  Christian  funeral  I  had  seen.  They  dressed  her  nicely,  and 
then  the  natives  came  and  embalmed  her,  and  then  we  carried  her 
to  the  grave. 

I  shall  never  forget  how  pretty  and  nice  it  looked  in  the  grave. 
She  was  the  first  native  Christian  that  had  been  buried  in  that 
part  of  the  country  at  that  time,  so  it  made  quite  a  sensation. 
The  grave  was  dug  down  a  certain  depth,  and  then  dug  out  in  the 
side  so  as  to  form  a  kind  of  niche,  or  shelf,  and  she  was  laid  in  this 
niche,  then  the  earth  was  thrown  in;  so  that  the  earth  was  not 
thrown  on  her,  like  we  do  here,  and  I  thought  how  nice  it  was;  I 
wouldn't  mind  being  buried  there  myself.  I  think  it  is  a  much 
better  way  than  putting  the  earth  right  on  top  of  the  coffin. 

There  we  left  her,  to  rest  till  the  morning  of  the  resurrection, 
when  the  trump  shall  sound,  and  when  the  dead  in  Christ  shall 
rise.  The  grave  did  not  seem  to  have  gloom  and  sadness,  even  in 
India,  with  Christ. 


Amanda  S.muh.  305 

From  Chaculdah  I  went  to  Lcnoula.  I  kept  this  wine  and 
champagne  in  my  lunch  basket,  well  covered  up.  1  was  so  afraid 
somi'budy  would  see  it,  and  if  the  natives  saw  it,  I  would  not  l)f 
able  to  explain.  I  thought  I  would  take  it  to  Bombay  and  give  it 
to  old  Sister  Miles,  who  was  a  grand,  good  woman,  in  the  hosi)ital 
at  Bombay  and,  like  Dorcas,  "  full  of  good  works  all  the  time." 

"Well,"  I  said  to  myself,  "Mrs.  Whitlock  said  I  could  do 
with  it  what  I  pleased,  and  I  will  give  it  to  Sister  Miles.  She  is 
so  judicious  and  careful,  she  will  know  whom  to  give  it  to  —  the 
very  weak  and  faint  ones  who  are  about  to  die;  1  don't  think  it 
would  be  any  harm  to  give  it  to  them." 

Brother  Fox  was  Presiding  Elder,  and  it  was  Quarterly  Meet- 
ing at  Lenoula.  So  after  resting  all  day,  they  had  meeting  Friday 
night.  At  first  I  thought  I  would  not  go  out,  as  it  was  quite  a 
little  walk  from  the  house  to  the  church.  Then  the  moon  was  so 
beautiful  and  the  evening  was  so  pleasant,  that  I  decided  to  go. 

The  Lord's  hand  was  in  it.  He  had  a  great  lesson  to  teach 
me.  Brother  Fox  preached.  A  number  of  natives  were  taken  in. 
Then  we  had  an  after  meeting.      It  was  full  of  interest  and  si»irit. 

Just  as  Brother  Fox  went  to  close  the  meeting,  a  man  rose  in 
the  rear  of  the  church,  a  fine  looking  Englishman;  how  well  I 
remember  him;  I  can  see  him  now.  He  was  a  man  that  weighed 
about  a  hundred  and  fifty,  and  was  about  five  feet  and  something 
in  height;  he  was  dressed  in  pure  white,  and  had  a  full,  round, 
flush,  English  face,  with  black  hair  and  black  eyes.  I  had 
noticed  he  had  sat  very  seriously  looking  and  listening  all  through 
the  service.     But  now  he  was  on  his  feet,  and  he  called  out: 

"Brethren,  I  want  to  speak  a  word." 

"  Go  on,  certainly,"  Brother  Fox  said. 

And  he  said,  in  a  most  deploring,  pleading  way,  "Oh,  breth- 
ren, brethren,  whatever  you  do,  be  careful  about  strong  drink. 
Don't  ever  advise  any  one  to  take  it,  under  any  circumstances,"  etc. 

My!  I  trembled.  I  thought,  "There,  now,  everybody  knows 
I  have  those  bottles." 

They  were  in  the  lunch  basket,  well  covered  up,  away  back 
under  the  bed  in  my  room.  But  it  seemed  to  me  somebody  had 
found  it  out. 

Well,  I  heard  the  story  of  this  man.  He  said:  "  I  have  been 
a  man  that  has  been  addicted  to  strong  drink,  and  I  have  been 
overcome.     It  has  been  mv  ruin.      But  I  came  here  and  was  con 


306  Autobiography  of 

verted,  and  for  two  years  I  went  on,  and  the  Lord  blessed  me.  But 
I  was  not  here  at  the  last  Quarterly  Meeting;  and  why?  Because 
I  had  been  overcome.  I  was  sick  with  diarrhoea,  very  bad,  and 
a  good  brother  came  in  to  see  me,  and  he  told  me  if  I  were  to  take 
blackberry  brandy  it  would  cure  me.  I  took  it.  The  diarrhoea 
stopped,  but  it  brought  back  the  old  appetite,  and  for  six  weeks  I 
was  in  the  gutter.  For  God's  sake,  don't  advise  anybody  to  take 
it.     Better  let  them  die." 

And  then  he  sat  down. 

"Lord,"  I  said,  "help." 

There  was  a  sad  feeling  that  went  over  the  house.  Then 
Brother  Fox  got  up  and  emphasized  what  he  had  said,  and  told  an 
experience  similar  that  he  knew  of,  and  then  another,  and  another. 

One  man  stated  another  case:  He  said  that  he  knew  a  man 
who  was  very  ill.  They  took  him  to  the  hospital.  He  was  about 
dead,  as  they  thought,  so  he  prayed  and  gave  himself  to  the  Lord, 
and  was  very  peaceful  and  happy.  It  pleased  the  Lord  after 
awhile  to  restore  him  so  that  he  became  quite  convalescent,  and 
one  day  a  friend  went  to  see  him  and  he  looked  so  weak  and  pale 
that  he  thought  that  just  a  little  wine  might  refresh  and 
strengthen  him,  so  he  got  some  wine  and  took  it  to  him.  It 
brought  on  the  old  appetite  so  strong  that  that  night  this  man 
slipped  away  from  the  hospital  and  went  into  the  town  and  got 
some  cheap  whisky  and  got  so  terribly  drunk  that  next  morning 
when  they  found  him  he  was  in  the  gutter  dying. 

"Lord,  deliver  me,"  I  thought,  "can  it  be  that  they  know  I 
was  going  to  take  this  wine  to  Sister  Miles?  By  the  grace  of  God 
I  will  never  do  it.  Though  she  is  judicious  and  careful,  it  might 
not  be  the  thing." 

On  Monday  morning,  about  five  o'clock,  I  left  Lenoula  for 
Bombay.  I  never  told  anybody  about  what  I  had.  They  all  sup- 
posed it  was  nothing  but  lunch  in  my  basket,  as  everybody  carried 
a  lunch  basket.  And  after  the  train  left  the  station  and  we  got 
pretty  well  under  way,  and  there  was  nobody  in  the  compartment 
but  myself  (the  Lord  helped  me  to  be  alone,  for  I  said,  "Now, 
Lord,  help  me  to  get  rid  of  this  champagne  and  wine"),  I  took  the 
bottle  of  champagne,  and  just  as  we  were  crossing  a  very  deep  cut, 
about  fifty  or  a  hundred  feet  deep,  I  threw  out  the  bottle  and 
heard  it  rumble  and  gurgle  as  it  went  down. 

"Dust  to  dust,  ashes  to  ashes,"  I  said,  then  out  went  the 
other  bottle. 


Amanda  Smith.  ^07 

Noono  saw  me,  and  I  exp«'Ci  thry  an-  th-To  yet,  for  th.'  cut 
was  so  d»H'p  thai  no  mortal  would  rvor  go  down  after  thorn,  I 
think.  And  that  is  the  way  I  got  deljve-atcc  from  my  cham- 
pagne and  win»>. 

Th<>  day  we  left  for  Chaculdah  we  prayed  around  — Miss 
Wheel. T,  Miss  Frt)w,  and  I,  last.  I  had  been  so  deeply  touched  at 
seeing  the  sacrifice  and  need  of  these  poor  girls.  Th.-y  were  there 
all  alone.  Fifty-one  miles  was  the  nearest  r;iilway  station.  And 
but  two  or  three  English  families  within  two  miles  of  them,  except 
some  English  officers'  headquarters. 

Two  of  these  officers  had  thrir  wives  there  some  of  the  time, 
but  they  are  often,  both  husbands  and  wives,  far  from  being  Chris- 
tians, and  have  but  little  sympathy  with  missionaries  and  their 
work.  So  these  two  girls,  being  there  alone,  were  looked  upon 
with  a  kind  of  suspicion.  No  woman  had  ever  been  known  to 
build  a  house  before.  But  Miss  Wherler  had  b.-en  her  own  archi- 
tect and  superintended  her  work,  bought  her  lime,  and  tiles,  and 
thatch,  and  everything. 

I  have  known  her  while  I  was  there  to  be  out  counting  tiles 
from  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  till  nine  and  sometimes  ten  o'clock 
at  night. 

The  native  men  whom  they  had  to  deal  with,  felt  like  some  of 
the  English  officers  who  were  there.  They  thought  that  a  woman 
had  not  sense  enough  to  build  a  house,  and  if  she  had  she  ought 
not  to  do  it,  for  it  was  lowering  her  dignity  as  a  woman. 

So  the  men  gave  them  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  They  would 
come  and  make  fine  promises,  then  you  must  pay  them  so  much 
money  before  they  brought  the  things  you  needed  or  ordered. 
Then  they  would  go  away,  and  you  might  see  them  again  in  two 
or  three  days,  or  a  week,  or  maybe  not  all.  All  this  time  you 
could  do  nothing,  but  you  must  wait. 

A  thing  of  that  kind  might  happen  two  or  three  times  during 
a  month.  So  the  work  was  delayed,  and  they  had  much  to  con- 
tend with. 

It  was  three  miles  to  the  nearest  village,  of  more  than  two 
thousand  inhabitants,  where  Miss  Wheeler  used  to  go  almost  every 
day  and  do  her  missionary  work  in  the. zenanas,  or  preach  to  a 
crowd  in  some  open  space  in  the  village,  or  under  a  tree.  Then 
they  had  a  room  where  she  dispensed  medicines  two  or  three  times 
a  week,  as  the  case  might  be. 


308  Autobiography  op 

Miss  Lucy  Drake,  now  Mrs.  "William  B.  Osborn,  of  Hackets- 
town,  with  Miss  Wheeler,  was  the  first  to  start  the  work  at  Bassim, 
under  the  auspices  of  Dr.  Cullis,  of  Boston,  but  after  a  year  or  so 
Miss  Drake's  health  failed  and  she  returned  to  America,  but  Miss 
Wheeler  remained.  She  has  never  been  home  since  she  left.  She 
IS  a  marvel.  Her  powers  of  endurance  and  stick-to-it-iveness  and 
deep  heart  loyalty  to  God  have  made  her  rightly  called  one  of  God'& 
noble  women. 

If  they  needed  a  loaf  of  bread,  or  a  pound  of  sugar  or  flour,  or 
the  most  trivial  article,  if  they  didn't  happen  to  have  it  in  the 
house,  they  had  to  go,  or  send,  fifty-one  miles  for  it,  which  gener- 
ally took  about  three  days,  with  a  slow-going  ox  cart,  as  we  would 
say,  but  bullock  wagon,  as  they  say  in  India. 

Those  were  the  pioneer  days.  God  has  wrought  wonders  since 
then.  Praise  His  name.  How  I  did  pity  and  sympathize  with 
these  poor  girls. 

So  while  I  was  praying  the  morning  before  I  left  the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  came  upon  me  in  a  wonderful  manner,  and  I  was  led  to 
pray,  "Oh,  Lord,  put  it  into  somebody's  heart  to  build  a  railroad 
through  this  part  of  the  country,  so  it  will  not  be  so  hard  for  those 
who  are  isolated  to  get  the  things  they  so  often  need." 

I  shall  never  forget  how  I  felt  as  I  prayed.  And  these  words 
came  to  me:  "Therefore  I  say  unto  you,  all  things  whatsoever 
you  ask  in  faith  believing,  ye  shall  receive."  And  I  saw  a  rail- 
road as  really  as  I  ever  saw  a  railroad,  by  faith. 

When  I  rose  they  laughed  at  me,  and  said,  "You  think  we 
will  have  a  railroad?" 

'•Yes,"  I  said,  "God  will  do  it.     You  will  see." 

And  it  did  come  to  pass  in  less  than  two  years  after,  that  the 
East  Indian  Railroad  Company  put  a  railroad  right  through  that 
section  of  country  and,  I  was  told,  a  station  within  two  miles  of 
Bassim  Faith  Mission  House.  That  was  the  name  inscribed  on 
the  front  of  the  building. 

While  I  was  in  Africa  a  Mrs.  Wills,  from  Bassa,  Liberia,  was 
in  London  on  a  visit.  She  went  to  a  meeting  at  Miss  Mason's 
House  of  Rest,  and  there  she  met  a  lady  who  told  her  to  tell  me 
when  she  got  back  to  Africa  that  the  prayer  I  had  prayed  in  India 
for  a  railroad  to  Bassim  had  been  answered,  and  the  railroad  was 
finished. 

That  was  the  first  I  knew  of  it  from  the  time  I  prayed,  and  I 
said,  "  Praise  the  Lord.     Is  there  anything  too  hard  for  God?  " 


\.MANPA  Smith. 


300 


Naini  Tal,  India,  Wodnosday,  SoptombiT  15,  1880.  Tho  morn- 
ing is  beautiful.  Miss  Fannie  Sparks  and  I  take  our  men  and  go 
up  (o  what  is  called  the  snow  seat.  It  is  about  two  miles,  I  sup- 
l>ose,  right  up  hill.  The  men  who  carry  you  in  the  dandies, 
when  they  get  to  a  certain  point  on  the  hill,  turn  you  round, 
and  carry  you  up  backwards.  I  don't  know  why  they  do  this, 
but  I  think  they  have  an  idea  that  you  are  not  so  heavy  car- 
ried that  way.  Miss  Sparks  had  four  men  and  I  had  four.  When 
we  got  up  to  the  top  of  the  hill  we  found  it  very  broad,  a  kind 
of  tableland.  You  can  look  for  miles  away,  and  the  hills  arc 
covered  with  snow. 

When  they  put  us  down,  and  we  stepped  out  of  our  chairs 
and  turned  round,  we  looked  right  on  the  great  mountain  ridge  of 
snow,  beautifully  white,  and  the  sun  shining  on  it  like  silv.T.  Oh! 
I  thought  I  never  saw  anything  so  beautiful.  I  wanted  to  shout 
right  out,  and  wave  my  hat. 

But  then  one  has  to  be  so  careful,  because  the  natives  watch 
you,  and  they  think  that  it  means  you  are  worshiping  Uie  snow  or 
the  great  mountains.  So  I  had  to  restrain  myself  from  shouting 
and  dancing. 

Oh!  the  sight  was  glorious  to  behold!  Miss  Sparks  and  I 
walked  about,  and  then  we  sat  down  and  had  a  nice  little  Bible 
reading  together,  and  then  we  knelt  down  and  had  such  a  blessed 
prayer  meeting.     I  shall  never  forget  that  morning. 

That  night,  Wednesday  night,  was  our  prayer  meeting.  We 
were  not  very  spiritual,  still  we  had  a  good  meeting. 

Thursday,  September  16th.  The  day  the  great  Hood  began. 
It  rained  all  day  Thursday.  Sometimes  it  would  lighten  up,  and 
seem  as  though  it  was  going  to  clear  off;  then  a  heavy  cloud  and 
fog  would  set  in,  and  the  rain  would  pour.  All  day  Thursday,  all 
night  Thursday  night,  all  day  Friday,  and  all  night  Friday  night. 

By  that  time  we  began  to  get  s.-rious;  we  wond.-n'd;  for  the 
water  ran  in  torrents;  great  trenches  would  give  way  in  the  ground; 
banks  were  falling  in;  and  we  did  not  know  but  danger  was  com- 
ing to  us. 

Miss  Sparks,  and  dear  Miss  Leighton,  who  has  recently  gone 
to  her  rt'st,  were  staying  at  the  Mi.ssion  House,  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Mudg.-,  and  we  were  expecting  to  return  to  the  plains  the 
following  week.  Mr.  G.  N.  Cheney  was  pastor  of  the  Methodist 
Clhurch.     Kev.  Mr.  Buck  was  pastor  of  the  native  work.     I  stayed 


310  Autobiography  op 

with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Buck,  at  their  home.  I  shall  never  forget  their 
kindness  to  me. 

Friday  night  we  didn't  sleep  much.  Mr.  Buck  was  up  most 
of  the  night,  working;  he  and  the  boys.  I  had  four  boys  and  Miss 
Swain  had  four.  We  generally  had  to  keep  these  boys  by  the 
month,  so  as  to  have  them  when  we  wanted  to  go  anywhere;  for 
we  could  not  walk  up  the  hills,  they  were  so  steep  and  long.  We 
didn't  pay  them  much  wages;  we  didn't  have  anything  to  do  with 
finding  their  food,  or  anything  of  that  kind.  We  gave  them  a  suit, 
which  was  their  outfit. 

In  this,  the  Lord  was  good  to  me,  for  dear  Mrs.  Fleming  gave 
my  boys  their  suits,  and  made  them;  and  they  didn't  cost  me  any- 
thing. I  remember  so  well  what  they  were,  and  how  nice  they 
looked;  they  were  of  a  kind  of  brown  flannel;  the  pants  just  reached 
to  their  knees;  the  coats  were  bound  with  red  round  the  bottom 
and  sleeves;  and  a  little  skull  cap  bound  with  red;  they  were  very 
picturesque.  There  are  alwaj's  outhouses  where  the  servants  stay. 
These  boys  used  to  get  wood  and  sell  it  days  when  they  did  not 
have  anything  else  to  do;  so  they  kept  along  very  nicely;  I  used  to 
buy  the  wood  from  them  sometimes. 

Well,  Mr.  Buck  and  the  boys  worked  all  night  almost.  When 
Mr.  Buck  came  in  in  the  morning,  he  was  very  much  exhausted. 
How  pale  he  looked.  We  could  not  get  any  breakfast;  nobody 
seemed  to  want  anything  to  eat. 

He  said  we  would  have  to  pile  up  all  the  things  in  the  house. 
So  we  began.  The  people  up  at  the  Mission  House  had  piled  their 
trunks  outside.     The  water  began  to  come  in  on  them. 

Between  three  and  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  Miss  Sparks 
and  Miss  Leighton  came  down  to  our  house.  We  had  got  our 
things  out  of  one  part  of  the  house,  and  piled  them  in  the  parlor; 
then  we  took  them  fiom  there  and  piled  them  on  the  veranda  out- 
side. 

When  morning  came  we  were  all  in  the  parlor  having  a  little 
rest.  Some  one  said  we  ought  to  have  a  prayer  meeting;  so  we 
got  down  and  pra^^ed  as  best  we  could;  then  we  rose,  and  were 
quietly  thinking  what  was  the  next  thing  to  be  done. 

I  went  to  my  room,  for  I  felt  I  could  pray  a  little  better  alone. 
After  awhile  Miss  Sparks  came  in,  and  she  knelt  down  by  the  bed 
beside  me,  and  we  prayed.  I  shall  never  forget  Miss  Sparks* 
prayer. 


Hill  Men,  Naim  Tal.  India. 


Amanda  Smith.  311 

Whf'n  wo  iiroso  sho  said.  "  Tho  Lord  has  ^nvt-n  me  th<'  assur- 
ance that  this  house  will  not  po  down."     1  said,  "  Amon." 

After  we  went  out,  tho  engineer,  who  liad  been  examining  the 
hillside,  came  by  and  said  to  Mr.  Buck,  "  I  think  this  end  of  your 
house  will  go;  but  the  other  end  is  on  the  rock,  and  I  think  it  is 
safer. 

About  nine  o'clock  the  baker  came.  We  got  several  loaves  of 
bread,  for  that  was  about  all  we  could  get  to  eat.  I  bought  two 
loaves  for  my  men;  they  had  not  had  anything  to  eat,  and  they 
were  shivering  with  the  cold,  and  were  wet  and  hungry;  but  their 
caste  feeling  was  so  deep,  that,  hungry  as  they  were,  they  would 
not  touch  the  bread.  One  of  them  seemed  for  a  moment  to  have 
forgotten;  and  just  as  I  picked  up  a  loaf  and  handed  it  to  him,  tho 
other  shouted  to  him,  ''Don't  you  do  it!  "  and  he  threw  it  down 
as  though  he  had  had  a  snake. 

Poor  fellows,  how  I  pitied  them  I  One  da}'  one  of  my  boys  was 
sutTering  with  a  pain  in  his  stomach,  and  came  to  me  for  some 
medicine,  he  said.  I  had  some  Jamaica  ginger,  and  I  mixed  some 
with  some  water  and  sugar,  and  brought  it  to  him;  I  never 
thought  but  he  would -drink  it  right  down;  but,  no,  he  said,  he 
could  not. 

"Well,"  I  said,."  what  are  you  going  to  do?"  And  he  went 
to  a  tree  and  got  a  leaf,  and  shaped  it,  and  I  had  to  pour  the  liquid 
in  the  leaf,  then  he  drank  it  out  of  the  leaf.  If  he  had  drunk  it 
out  of  the  glass  he  would  hav(^  broken  his  caste. 

Oh,  how  they  are  anchored  to  that  caste  feeling!  But  God  is 
delivering  them.  The  door  is  open.  Light  is  coming.  Praise  the 
Lord. 

The  hotel  was  a  very  short  distance  from  the  mission  house: 
tx'iiiaps  a  half  block.  There  was  a  lady,  wliose  name  I  have 
forgotten,  who  had  come  up  from  the  plains  a  few  days  before, 
and  was  staying  at  the  hotel  (her  father's),  with  her  two  children, 
and  her  native  nurse.  The  youngest  child  was  about  a  year  old: 
the  other  about  two  years  old.  The  nurse  was  giving  the  baby  his 
bath  in  their  room,  and  the  mother  had  taken  the  other  little  boy. 
and  gone  out  in  the  breakfast  room  to  breakfast.  She  had  not 
more  than  got  out  of  the  room  when  the  side  of  the  hill  came 
down  and  buried  the  nurse  and  baby. 

Mr.  Buck  and  I  were  standing  on  the  veranda.  Mr.  Buck  said, 
"Well.  Sister  Smith,  this  is  terrible.  " 


312  Autobiography  op 

"What  will  we  do?"  T  said. 

It  would  be  as  dark  almost  at  times  as  six  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing. Then  it  would  lighten  up,  and  you  would  hope  that  the  sun 
was  coming  out;  but,  no. 

After  awhile  Mr.  Buck  looked  up  the  hill  toward  Government 
House.  Government  House  was  a  large  house  where  the  Governor 
lived.  It  stood  on  a  beautiful  hill;  and,  though  it  was  quite  a 
ways  up  to  Government  House,  it  was  beautiful  to  look  from;  the 
sight,  when  you  got  up,  was  charming,  every  way  you  would 
look. 

So,  standing  on  the  veranda,  we  could  look  eastward  and  see 
Government  House  quite  distinctly,  though  it  was  about  two  and 
a  half  or  three  miles  away.  And,  as  Mr.  Buck  stood  looking,  he 
said  to  me,  "Why,  Sister  Smith,  just  look  at  those  trees." 

And  just  as  I  turned  to  look,  the  trees  were  swaying  first  one 
way,  then  another,  and'  all  at  once  there  was  a  crash,  and  they 
went  down  so  gracefully,  and  the  earth  plowed  like  a  great  ava- 
lanche. 

Well,  there  was  a  panic.  Everybody  left  the  house,  and  got 
out  as  quickly  as  he  could;  the  newsspread.rapidly,  and  in  a  little 
while  there  were  a  hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hundred  men,  many 
of  them  English  soldiers,  digging,  trying  to  get  out  this  child  and 
nurse;  and  while  they  were  digging  away  as  hard  as  they  could, 
and  we  were  lamenting,  and  feeling  the  sadness  that  had  come 
upon  this  family,  the  earth  gave  way  again,  and  buried  them. 

They  didn't  see  the  danger,  and  we  couldn't  alarm  them; 
their  heads  were  down  as  they  were  digging;  and  it  struck  the 
other  part  of  the  hotel  and  swept  on,  then  it  passed  on  like  a  great 
moving  mountain;  I  never  saw  such  a  sight;  it  moved  on,  carry- 
ing great  boulders  on  its  face! 

The  next  was  the  large  reading-room  and  postoffice  that  stood 
on  the  lake,  the  Hindoo  Temple,  and  Bell's  large  store. 

I  had  just  seen  from  the  veranda  some  ladies  and  gentlemen 
go  into  the  reading-room,  and  they  had  not  come  out;  and  there 
were  persons  in  Bell's  store  whom  I  knew;  one,  a  lady  who  was  a 
very  earnest  Christian.  I  said  to  Mr,  Buck,  "Oh,  Bell's  store," 
and  I  had  hardly  got  the  words  out  of  my  mouth  when  it  was 
swept  awayl  Then  "The  Reading  Room,"  and  I  had  no  more 
than  said  it  till  it  was  taken!  "And  there  goes  the  Temple  next  " 
and  there  it  was  in  the  lake! 


Amanda  Smith.  818 

The  liike  was  about  a  half-miK'  wide,  and,  porhaps,  three 
miles  in  length;  but  the  whole  thing  swept  into  the  lake,  and  the 
noise  was  like  the  blast  of  a  cannon,  and  the  smoke  ascended 
upwards;  it  swept  everything  clear;  and  there  was  not  a  brick  of 
the  chimney,  or  a  piece  of  wood  left.  The  horror  of  that  hour  I 
never  want  to  see  again! 

Then  the  men  came  and  said  we  would  all  have  to  leave  the 
house;  so  we  started.  We  thought  we  would  go  to  the  M»'th«xlist 
Church;  but  the  native  Christian  Church  had  been  swept  away, 
and  so  th»*y  had  taken  refuge  in  the  church. 

The  first  native  Christian  had  died  on  Friday  night.  Slu-  had 
been  sick  for  quite  a  while,  and  Mrs.  Buck  and  all  went  and  did 
everything  they  could  for  her. 

She  was  in  one  of  the  outhouses  on  the  hill.  So  Mrs.  Huck 
and  I  went  up  and  prepared  her  for  her  burial.  Mrs.  Buck  drt'S.sed 
her  in  a  nice  white  gown,  combed  her  hair,  washed  her,  and  got 
her  all  ready  to  bury,  and  we  left  her  lying  on  her  bed  and  went 
down  to  the  house;  and  about  an  hour  and  a  half  after  it  seemed 
like  the  Lord  buried  this  woman  Himself;  for  the  house  gave 
way,  the  ground  opened,  and  she  went  down,  bed  and  all,  and  was 
covered  up.     I  never  heard  that  she  ever  had  any  other  burial! 

Well,  when  they  told  us  we  would  have  to  leave  the  house, 
we  thought  we  would  go  to  Mr.  Sasha's;  he  was  a  photographer. 
Everybody  had  to  look  out  for  himself;  and  I  felt  I  was  alone, 
and  everybody  had  so  many  more  cares,  and  so  I  had  to  do  the 
best  1  could  for  myself.  Miss  Sparks  and  I  were  the  last  to  leave 
the  house. 

As  we  started  down  to  Sasha's  I  thought  I  would  go  over  lo 
Mrs.  Fleming's,  which  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  further  along 
from  our  i)lace-.  Mrs.  Fleming  had  a  large  dressmaking  establish- 
ment. Htr  men,  who  worked  for  her  (for  the  native  men  do  all 
the  drt'ssnuiking,  pretty  much,  there,)  are  called  derzies;  some- 
times slu'  would  have  twelve  men,  all  sitting  down  on  the  Hoor  in 
a  row,  sewing.  She  did  the  cutting  and  fitting,  and  these  derzies 
did  all  the  other  work;  the  trimming  and  fi.xing  of  all  kinds. 

Her  men  were  all  gone.  They  had  sent  the  children  away, 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fleming  were  the  two  last  to  leave  the  house, 
and  they  were  going  on  horseback.  I  said  to  Mrs.  Fleming,  '*I 
don't  know  what  to  do,  or  where  to  go." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "go  with  us  as  la'-  as  Sasha's." 


314  AuTOBiOGRApny  of 

The  sweeping  away  of  the  Hindoo  Temple  had  made  the 
Hindoos  so  vexed;  they  felt,  and  thought,  the  Gods  were  angry 
with  the  missionaries,  and  so  had  destroyed  their  temple;  and 
there  was  an  expression  of  indignation  on  the  countenance  of  every 
one. 

I  remember  as  I  was  going  along  I  would  put  my  foot  on  what 
seemed  to  be  a  piece  of  turf,  but  it  would  give  way,  and  some- 
times I  would  go  down  almost  to  my  knee;  sometimes  when  I 
would  step  on  it  I  would  stick  in  tight;  once  or  twice  I  thought  I 
was  stuck  fast;  two  or  three  of  these  men  passed  by,  and  with  a 
scornful  sneer  they  grinned  as  though  they  hoped  I  could  not  get 
out. 

I  prayed  to  the  Lord  to  help  me,  and  finally  I  got  to  Sasha's. 
I  went  in.  Miss  Sparks,  and  Miss  Leighton,  and  some  others,  had 
gathered  there.  Mrs.  Sasha  had  a  very  sick  baby;  but  she  had 
had  the  servant  get  them  a  cup  of  tea,  and  they  were  getting  a 
little  refreshed;  so  when  I  got  in  they  gave  me  a  cup  of  tea,  and 
Mrs.  Sasha  got  me  a  pair  of  dry  stockings;  and  just  as  I  got  my 
stockings  on,  and  drank  part  of  my  tea,  Mr.  Mooney,  an  English- 
man, came  and  said,  "  You  will  have  to  get  out  of  here  as  quick 
as  you  possibly  can;  all  the  houses  on  this  hillside  are  falling 
down." 

Mrs.  Sasha  picked  up  her  baby,  supposed  to  be  dying,  in  her 
arms,  and  started;  we  begged  her  to  wait  a  little.  She  said,  "It 
is  easy  for  you  all;  you  have  got  religion,  and  "something  to  com- 
fort you;  but  I  have  not." 

Then  clasping  her  little  baby  she  ran.  Mr.  Sasha  got  the 
hammock  and  sent  the  boys  after  her,  with  some  other  things,  for 
she  went  without  a  bonnet. 

I  was  the  last  to  get  out  of  the  house.  I  was  so  weak  I 
trembled  from  head  to  foot.  I  was  not  excited;  I  was  just  we^; 
and  it  seemed  to  me  I  could  never  get  my  things  on.  But  when  I 
did  get  them  on,  Mr.  Mooney-r-God  bless  that  man;  all  the  rest 
had  gone  —  took  me  by  the  arm,  and  literally  dragged  me.  He 
was  a  very  strong  man.  As  I  think  it  over  now  it  seems  I  can  feel 
the  grasp  of  his  hand  on  my  right  arm. 

We  went  from  there  to  a  Mr.  Frazier's,  about  a  mile  away,  on 
the  other  side  of  the  hill  altogether. 

As  I  went  along  I  said  to  myself,  "The  idea  of  running  away 
from  God."     l  said  to  Mr.  Mooney,  "I  don't  mean  to  go  another 


^Wfi-^f 


^ 


5»^j;><;; 


J-^:^-^^ 


'0mM'^^r 


m 


-'M 


Mi 


^ 


;^^ 


Amanda  Smith.  B15 

peg;  all  the  people  c:in  i^o  who  want  to  i^o;  but  I  am  doiu'  running; 
by  tho  grace  of  God  I  shall  not  run  anywhere.  Running  away 
from  («od!     Lord,  hrlp  mr."     And  ITi-  did. 

We  got  ovtT  to  Mr.  Frazicr's,  I  suppose  about  five  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon. 

Mr.  Frazier  was  a  Scotchman;  a  very  nice  man.  He  had  a 
large  house,  and  he  and  his  sons  wrre  there  in  some  kind  of  gov- 
ernment businrss.  So  we  were  all  very  comfortable.  They  got  us 
a  very  nice  supix-r,  and  we  were  all  enjoying  it.  But  the  sorrow 
and  .sadness  among  the  poor  soldiers'  wives  and  their  companies, 
and  the  \veei)ing,  were  very  touching. 

After  we  had  had  supper,  and  were  sitting  talking,  each  one 
telling  how  he  got  out,  what  he  thought,  what  he  did,  etc.,  Mr. 
Buck  began  to  feel  an.xious  to  know  what  had  become  of  the 
poor,  native  Christians,  and  he  said  it  was  so  dark  he  didn't  know 
what  to  do.  Mr.  Mooney  said,  "  I  will  go  and  see  what  has  become 
of  them."  Mr.  Buck  said  he  would  be  so  glad  if  he  would.  So 
Mr.  Mooney  started  off.  About  a  half  hour  or  more  after  he  had 
gone,  all  at  once  there  came  over  me  a  horror  of  darkness  and 
awful  sadness.  I  could  not  account  for  it.  I  left  the  room  and 
went  otf  to  myself,  and  knelt  down  and  prayed.  Oh,  hosv  I  prayed! 
I  said,  "  Lord,  there  is  no  use  going  anywhere,  but  somebody  is  in 
awful  danger." 

It  seemed  to  come  to  me  as  though  somebody  was  in  danger; 
and  so  I  prayed  the  Lord  to  deliver  somebody  from  danger.  My 
heart  seemed  to  get  a  little  quiet  then,  and  I  got  up  and  went  out 
into  the  room  again.  I  looked  at  everybody,  but  no  one  seemed  to 
be  unhappy;  they  were  peaceful  and  quiet;  so  I  sat  a  while,  and 
they  talked  on. 

Finally  this  agony  came  over  me  again;  then  I  said  to  the 
brethren  and  friends,  "Let  us  pray;  I  feel  that  somebody  is  in 
great  danger;  Oh!  let  us  pray!"  and  we  all  knelt  down  and  began 
to  pray.  When  we  got  through  we  arose,  and  about  a  half  hour 
afterward  Mr.  Mooney  came  back,  and  told  what  a  narrow  esca|)e 
he  had  had  fn)m  death;  and  looking  at  his  watch,  and  comparing 
the  time  of  the  danger  with  the  time  I  had  had  the  agony,  the 
time  was  identical. 

A  flash  of  lightning  saved  him  from  going  down  into  the  lake; 
though  he  knew  the  road  so  well,  the  trees  and  boulders  had  so 
piled  up  across  the  road  that  he  missed  his  way,  and  just  as  he 


316  Autobiography  of  Amanda  Smith. 

was  going  to  step  into  the  lake  a  flash  of  lightning  came,  and 
instead  of  stepping  forward  he  stepped  back,  and  to  one  side,  and 
so  was  saved. 

Now,  that  seemed  to  be  a  strange  coincidence;  yet  it  was  God. 
T  shall  never  be  able  to  tell  anyone  the  awful  agony  that  came  over 
me  to  pray  for  somebody  that  was  in  danger.  This  man  was  my 
savior  a  few  hours  before;  and,  in  answer  to  prayer,  God  helped 
me  to  be  his  savior  a  few  hours  later.  Praise  the  Lord!  He  still 
moves  in  mysterious  ways  His  wonders  to  perform. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

THE  GREAT  MEETING  AT  BANGALOKE  —  THE  ORPHANAGE  AT  COLAR  — 
BURMAH  —  CALCUTTA  —  ENGLAND. 

This  was  a  bU'SSed  time.  We  should  like  to  have  stayed  a  few 
days  longer;  but  previous  eugagemeiits  being  made,  we  had  to 
pass  on  with  praise  in  our  hearts  to  God  that  He  gave  us  the  priv- 
ilege of  sowing,  if  only  a  little,  for  Him,  and  with  prayers  and 
tears  to  be  watered,  and  in  due  time  the  harvest  will  be  reaped. 
May  the  Lord  help  us  to  believe  as  we  pray. 

Miss  Anstea  came  to  Bangalore  to  attend  the  meetings.  She 
came,  she  said,  for  a  definite  object,  and  that  was,  for  a  renewed 
baptism  of  the  Spirit;  and,  after  waiting  several  days,  the  Lord 
helped  her,  among  others,  to  claim  by  faith  what  she  had  asked 
for;  and  she  returned  to  her  home  and  work,  filled;  and  when  1 
got  there  and  saw  the  work,  I  said  in  my  heart,  "If  ever  there  was 
need  of  such  an  anointing  and  empowering,  dear  Miss  Anstea 
needed  it." 

Three  hundred  helpless  souls  God  had  committed  to  her  care; 
and  they  leaned  upon  her  as  they  would  upon  a  mother.  You 
have  no  idea  of  the  care  and  anxiety  and  responsibility  of  such  a 
position  unless  you  were  there  to  see  it. 

In  connection  with  the  orphanage  there  are  two  farms:  Naz- 
areth and  Bethany.  Miss  Anstea  is  the  head  of  all  this  work;  and 
while  she  was  so  anxious  that  they  should  know  all  that  would 
help  them  on  in  life,  temporally,  she  had  the  greatest  concern  in 
the  salvation  of  every  soul;  for  this  she  labored  and  prayed  daily; 
and.  accordiuir  to  her  faith,  so  it  was  unto  her. 

I  am  more  and  more  convinced  that  to  succeed  in  God's  work 
everywhere,  one  needs  to  be  filled  with  the  Spirit  and  mightiness 
of  God,  and  especially  so  in  India  and  Africa. 

Superstition  and  idolatry,  and  infidelity,  are  so  rampant  it 
(ai7) 


318  Autobiography  op 

seems  the  very  air  one  breathes  is  impregnated  with  them.  Oh, 
how  the  dear  workers  all  over,  need  constantly  the  fresh  anoint- 
ing of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  can  and  does  reveal  the  almightinesa 
of  Jesus  to  save  from  all  unrighteousness. 

Sunday  was  their  Communion  Sunday.  It  was  a  beautiful 
sight  to  see  so  many  remembering  the  Lord's  death,  till  He  come 
again.  It  was  very  solemn  and  impressive.  A  sight  like  this 
means  more  in  India  than  it  would  in  England;  these  are  poor 
orphans  redeemed  from  heathenism.  I  expect  to  laud  and  wonder 
at  His  grace  through  all  eternity.     Amen. 

Miss  Anstea  had  invited  me  to  come  to  Colar  and  visit  her 
mission.  So,  on  my  way  from  Bombay,  I  stopped  at  Colar  for  a 
week.  Colar  was  a  large,  native  town,  and  Miss  Anstea's  mission 
covered  a  large  area,  in  which  she  had  a  chapel,  and  a  very  nice, 
commodious  mission  house,  large,  comfortable  apartments  for  the 
boys  and  girls,  separate,  and  several  very  comfortable  houses  for 
missionaries,  all  nicely  situated  and  well  furnished. 

I  held  meetings  in  the  little  chapel  every  night.  Our  morning 
prayer  was  similar  to  a  service;  at  the  ringing  of  the  bell  the  boys 
and  girls  would  file  in  and  take  their  seats,  and  we  would  have 
prayers  before  they  weni  to  work. 

The  Lord  gave  us  great  blessings  during  the  week's  services. 
At  night  the  church  would  be  crowded;  large  numbers  of  the 
heathen  from  the  outside  came  in;  many  of  them  seemed  to  be 
deeply  interested.  The  Lord  wonderfully  helped  me  to  speak  to 
them  every  night;  and  several  of  the  children  professed  to  be  con- 
verted. 

One  Sabbath  morning  as  we  were  at  prayers  at  the  Mission 
House,  a  poor  woman  came  and  sat  on  the  veranda,  outside,  with 
a  beautiful  baby  in  her  arms,  about  three  or  four  months  old. 
When  prayers  were  over,  she  was  asked  what  she  wanted.  She  said 
she  wished  to  see  Miss  Sob.  That  is  what  the  unmarried  ladies  are 
called  in  India  by  the  natives;  a  married  lady  is  called  Mame  Sob. 

Miss  Anstea  had  several  helpers,  English  persons,  a  man  and 
his  wife,  and  two  unmarried  ladies.  Always  after  the  prayers 
with  the  boys  in  the  chapel  in  the  morning,  they  had  their  family 
prayer  at  the  Mission  House. 

So,  when  Miss  Anstea  went  to  this  woman  and  asked  her  what 
she  wanted,  she  said  that  she  had  had  nothing  to  eat  for  two  days, 
and  she  was  starving,  and  she  wanted  her  to  take  her  baby;  she 


ANfANDA  Smith. 


319 


h;i<l  coint"  a  very  loii^r  way  from  a  native  town;  slic  said  slir  liail 
thivr  oihor  children,  and  liad  nothing'  for  them  to  eat;  and  if  she 
woiUd  ffive  her  fifty  cents  and  keep  the  bal)y,  she  would  k'o  and  get 
something  for  the  other  children;  but  she  could  not  bear  to  see  the 
baby  starve  to  death  before  her  oyes. 

*It  was  a  beautiful  child,  a  little  girl.  By  that  time  we  were 
all  around  her.  Miss  Anstea  questioned  her  in  every  possible  way 
to  find  out  if  her  story  was  true. 

She  told  her  she  was  afraid  she  had  taken  somebody's  baby 
and  wanted  to  pass  it  otf  for  her  own;  but  at  this  the  ixjor  woman 
wept  bitterly  and  declared  the  baby  was  her  own,  but  that  they 
were  starving,  and  it  was  her  last  resort  to  save  her  baby,  to  bring 
it  to  the  Mission;  the  others,  she  said,  were  older,  and  somebody 
might  help  them;  but  nobody  wanted  the  baby. 

Miss  Anstea  told  her  there  was  no  one  there  who  knew  any- 
thing about  taking  care  of  so  young  a  baby,  and  that  she  herself 
knew  but  very  little  how  to  manage  a  young  baby. 

As  we  all  stood  around  looking  and  listening,  my  mother  heart 
ached,  and  I  would  have  gladly  taken  it  myself,  but  I  had  no 
where  only  as  the  Lord  gave  me  friends  who  would  invite  me  to 
their  homes  for  awhile,  as  Miss  Anstea  did.  But  we  prevailed  on 
Miss  Anstea  to  take  the  baby. 

One  of  Miss  Anstea's  Christian  girls  said  she  would  look  after 
it.  I  think  Miss  Anstea  offered  to  pay  her  a  small  sum;  or  some 
of  the  rest  suggested  that;  another  said  they  would  milk  the  goat 
so  the  baby  would  have  milk.  I  said,  "  I  will  give  the  woman 
the  fifty  cents;"  but  I  gave  her  a  little  more  than  fifty  cents. 

She  laid  the  baby  down  on  the  mat.  Of  course,  they  have  no 
clothes  on  them;  they  are  perfectly  naked.  She  put  her  hand  on 
her  heart  and  sighed,  and  then  ran  away  out  of  the  compound. 
When  she  got  to  the  gate  she  turned  and  looked  back;  poor  thing! 
she  was  so  thin,  and  looked  just  like  what  she  had  said,  that  she 
was  starving  to  death;  you  could  see  she  was  weak;  but,  oh,  that 
look  when  she  got  to  the  gate!  I  shall  never  forget  it;  it  was  full 
of  a  mother's  love  and  tenderness  for  h«'r  baby.  My  heart  ached 
for  iK-r;  and  to  save  my  life  I  could  not  keep  hack  the  tears. 

How  often  the  missionary  in  different  foreign  fields  comes  up 
against  heart  rending  scenes,  before  which  they  often  stand  h.lp- 
less.  All  they  can  do  is  to  weep  with  them  that  weep,  and  pray 
with  them  that  don't  know  how  to  pray  for  themselves. 


330  Autobiography  op 

We  took  the  baby  in,  and  Miss  Anstea  adopted  it,  and  we 
named  it  "Amanda  Smith." 

I  left  on  Friday.  Up  to  that  time  the  baby  had  got  on  very 
well,  but  cried  a  good  deal,  nights;  there  were  plenty  to  look  after 
it  in  the  daytime,  but  at  night  everybody  wanted  to  sleep,  but  the 
baby.     Dear,  little  Amanda  Smith! 

I  went  from  Colar  to  Bangalore,  then  to  Madras.  I  never  heard 
whether  the  poor,  little  thing  pulled  through  or  not;  if  she  did,  I 
know  it  was  hard,  after  the  novelty  had  worn  off  with  the  children. 

Miss  Anstea  was  a  grand  woman,  and  did  a  noble  work  in  that 
province.  How  they  have  missed  her  since  she  has  returned  to 
England.  She  spent  many  years  in  India,  and  established  and  run 
the  missions  mostly  at  her  own  personal  expense. 

When  she  broke  down,  and  was  obliged  to  return  to  England, 
she  turned  the  work  over  to  Bishop  Thoburn.  So  the  work  at 
Colar  is  still  being  perpetuated. 

Madras,  January  7th,  1881.  I  spend  a  few  days  at  the  home  of 
Brother  Shaw,  pastor  of  the  Methodist  Church.  Miss  E.  and  I 
visit  three  zenanas  and  speak  to  a  very  nice  family  of  girls;  read, 
and  explain  the  Word;  then  I  sing;  and  as  I  sing,  though  they  do 
not  understand  the  words,  the  Spirit  seemed  to  touch  their  hearts, 
and  they  weep.     May  God  bless  them. 

Wednesday,  January  12th.  A  meeting  at  eight  a.  m.  The 
Lord  was  in  the  midst  of  us.  A  number  of  good  testimonies,  and 
a  number  rose  for  prayers,  as  they  did  also  at  night.  Still  there's 
more  to  follow. 

Here  I  saw  the  great  juggernaut  car,  so  well  known  in  the 
history  of  sacrifices  in  India,  whose  wheels  have  crushed  so  many 
infants  at  the  hands  of  their  poor  mothers.  How  my  heart  ached 
as  I  listened  to  the  story,  told  by  the  Chief  of  Police.  How  dread- 
ful is  heathen  blindness.  Thank  God  that  the  car  of  the  jugger- 
naut for  such  sacrifice  has  come  to  belong  to  the  things  of  the 
past;  has  been  superseded  by  the  glorious  light  of  Christian  civil- 
ization, and  judicious  Christian  legislation. 

Tuesday,  Jan.  18th.  I  leave  this  morning  for  Punrooty,  to  see 
Miss  Reed.  How  God  has  kept  His  dear  servant  here,  and  made 
her  a  blessing  and  a  succor  to  many!  The  Lord  has  sent  her  help 
from  England  just  at  this  time.  Miss  Bloom  and  Miss  Thurgood. 
Mrs.  Fred  Bowden  and  her  dear  mother  came  with  them  for  a 
little  visit.     A  beautiful  company  of  Christian  workers. 


Amanda  Smith.  321 

Wednesday,  10th.  My  first  day  at  Miss  Reed's.  His  word, 
how  sweet:  "  Ye  art'  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus."  I  give  a  littlt-  talk 
in  the  chapel  this  morning  to  the  orphans  who  ar«*  redeemed  from 
heathenism  and  starvation.  Miss  Reed  took  up  this  work  at  Pun- 
rooty  during  the  year  of  the  great  famine,  when  hundreds  per- 
ished from  hunger. 

Some  of  the  scenes  of  suffering  in  those  days,  as  she  described 
them  to  us,  would  make  one  grow  faint. 

Saturday,  22d.  Arrived  at  Bangalore  late  in  the  afternoon. 
Stopped  with  Brother  Carter,  pastor  of  the  Methodist  Church. 

Tuesday,  3oth.  Oh,  Lord,  revive  Thy  work.  A  blessed  time 
at  family  prayer.  I  go  with  Brother  Carter  and  make  some  pas- 
toral calls  among  the  people.  At  night  we  have  a  good  meeting, 
a  crowded  church. 

But  the  good  Plymouth  brethren  were  much  disturbed, 
because  I  was  a  woman,  and  Paul  had  said,  "Let  your  women 
kei>p  silence  in  the  churches."  So  they  had  nice  articles  in  the 
daily  papers;  then  they  wrote  me  kind  letters,  and  bombarded  me 
with  Scriptural  texts  against  women  preaching;  pointed  out  some 
they  wished  me  to  preach  from.  I  never  argue  with  anybody  — 
just  say  my  say  and  go  on.  But  one  night  I  said  I  would  speak  on 
this  subject  as  I  understood  it.  Oh,  what  a  stir  it  made.  The 
church  was  packed  and  crowded.  After  I  had  sung,  I  read  out 
my  text:  "  Let  your  '  men  '  keep  silence  in  the  church,"  quoting 
the  chapter  and  verse  (1  Cor.,  14:28)  where  Paul  was  giving  direc- 
tions so  as  not  to  have  confusion  —  one  to  speak  at  a  time,  while 
the  others  listened.  And  then  one  was  to  interpret,  and  if  there 
was  no  interpreter,  they  should  keep  silence  in  the  church.  So  I 
went  on  with  my  version  of  it.  We  had  an  excellent  meefing,  and 
the  newspaper  articles  stopped,  and  the  letters  stopped,  and  I  went 
on  till  I  got  through. 

I  have  wondered  what  has  become  of  the  good  Plymouth 
brethren  in  India  since  the  Salvation  Army  lassies  have  been  so 
owned  and  blessed  of  God.  Their  work  has  told  more  practically 
on  the  strongholds  of  heathenism  than  all  that  holy  conservatism 
would  have  brought  to  bear  in  a  thousand  years. 

Oh,  that  the  Holy  Ghost  may  be  poured  out  mightily!  Then 
shall  the  prophecy  of  Joel  be  fulfilled.  For  are  we  not  living  in 
the  last  days  of  this  wonderful  dispensation  of  the  Holy  Ghost? 

Sunday,  Feb.  Gth.     A  blessed  Sabbath  morning.     My  last  at 


323  Autobiography  of 

Bangalore.  After  a  good  day,  I  spend  the  night  at  Major  Orton's. 
Praise  the  Lord  for  a  good  rest. 

Monday,  7th.  The  word  of  the  Lord  this  morning  is,  **  Behold, 
I  set  before  you  an  open  door. "  Amen.  In  the  afternoon  I  take  a 
drawing  room  meeting  at  Mrs.  Orton's.  The  Lord  was  with  us, 
and  gave  me  great  liberty  in  speaking. 

Wednesday,  16th.  I  leave  Dr.  Jewett's  this  morning  for  Ran- 
goon.    Very  sick,  but  peaceful.     Praise  the  Lord. 

Saturday,  36th.  We  get  in  at  three  in  the  afternoon.  As  I 
look  I  see  a  boat  nearing  us,  with  three  men  in  it  —  Brother  Rob- 
inson and  some  others.  Brother  Robinson  takes  me  to  his  nice 
home.  I  was  entertained  there  for  several  weeks.  God  bless  him 
and  Sister  Robinson. 

Wednesday,  March  16th.  Leave  Rangoon  to-day  on  the 
steamer  for  Maulmain.  Kindly  received  by  Mr.  Norris  and  Miss 
Barrows,  Baptist  missionaries  Hold  my  first  meeting  at  the  Bap- 
tist Church  this  evening  at  seven-thirtj'.  It  is  a  new  thing  in  the 
Baptist  Church  for  a  woman  to  speak.  We  had  a  large  company 
out. 

After  Mr.  Norris  had  spoken  to  them,  he  introduced  me.  The 
Lord  helped  me  to  sing  and  talk.  On  Sunday  we  commenced 
meetings  again,  and  went  on  for  a  week.  The  people  came  from 
far  and  near.     The  Lord  was  with  us  and  blessed  us. 

Friday,  35th.  Miss  Barrows  and  I  leave  to-night  for  Amherst, 
in  the  boat.  It  is  slow,  but  rather  pleasant  and  cool  going  down 
the  river.  Get  to  Amherst  at  five  a.  m.  :  go  ashore  at  six.  A  fine, 
large  mission  house,  roomy  and  pleasant  all  about.  Oh,  Lord,  I 
will  praise  Thee;  Thou  hast  dealt  so  bountifully  with  me.  How 
beautiful  this  place,  and  the  quiet  is  so  restful. 

Sunday,  37th.  Go  to  the  Burmese  service  in  the  Baptist 
Church.  A  native  minister  preaches.  At  five  p.  m.  the  Lord 
helped  me  to  speak  to  the  people. 

Wednesday,  39th.  We  leave  this  quiet  place  for  Maulmain. 
We  make  our  last  visit  to  the  grave  of  Mrs.  Judson,  hear  the  story 
of  her  life,  and  I  breathe  a  prayer  to  the  Father  for  His  Spirit 
more  fully  in  my  own  heart,  as  these  words  come  to  me:  "  Let  me 
die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  m}'  last  end  be  like  hers." 

March  30th.  Get  to  Maulmain  in  time  for  a  meeting  for 
women,  and  speak  at  night.  Called  to  see  several  of  the  old  Chris- 
tians.    One  old  man  was  baptized  by  Dr.  Judson.     What  a  grand 


*  Amanda  Smith.  323 

work  this  mission  has  dono  for  this  part  of  Burmah.  How  I 
admire  those  grand  heroes  of  missions  in  the  days  when  it  cost 
more  and  meant  more  than  it  does  now.  Surely,  "  Their  works  do 
follow  them."     Amen. 

Rangoon,  British  Burmah,  April  4,  1881.  "Praise  God,  from 
Whom  all  blessings  flow."  This  has  been  a  precious  day.  Dear 
Mrs.  Boyd  sent  her  carriage  for  me,  and  I  went  and  spent  a  few 
hours  with  dear  Mrs.  Bennett  and  Miss  Watson,  Baptist  mission- 
aries. The  Lord  helped  me  as  I  told  them  of  His  dealings  with 
me,  and  how  He  had  sanctified  my  soul.  The  Lord  gave  light, 
and  when  I  arose  to  go,  dear  Mrs.  Bennett  said,  taking  my  hands 
in  hers,  "  Now,  I  want  to  say  to  you  that  this  has  been  the  hap- 
piest hour  I  have  spent  for  years,  and  when  I  think  that  the  Lord 
has  raised  you  up  and  sent  j^ou  here  to  teach  me  of  these  wonder- 
ful things  of  God,  I  praise  Him.  Now,  I  do  trust  He  will  bless 
you  and  keep  you." 

And  then  opening  the  door  of  a  little  closet  near  her,  she 
handed  me  a  donation  to  help  me,  as  she  said,  in  God's  work,  and 
regretted  she  had  no  more  by  her. 

This  good  woman  of  God  has  given  her  life  to  the  heathen  in 
India.  She  has  been  abundant  in  labors  for  more  than  forty  years. 
And  now  her  eyesight  has  failed  her,  and  also  her  physical  health, 
and  she  is  laid  aside.  And  no  doubt  it  is  a  great  trial,  for  her  life 
has  been  such  an  active  one.  But,  thank  God,  she  is  finding  His 
grace  sufficient  for  her. 

One  of  the  first  things  I  was  struck  with  was  the  pagoda,  or 
Burmese  temple.  You  can  see  its  dome  for  two  miles  away,  as 
you  look  off,  before  you  get  into  harbor.  The  streets  of  Rangoon 
are  wide  and  rectangular,  like  those  of  Philadelphia,  and  the 
shade  trees  over  the  city  are  very  graceful. 

After  being  in  Burmah  a  few  days  I  wanted  to  visit  this  great 
temple.  So  I  started,  in  company  with  some  friends,  and  after 
walking  some  distance  from  Brother  Robinson's  house,  we  came 
to  what  I  suppose  would  be  called  the  park.  There  was  an  ascent 
of  about  seventy-five  feet  up  a  series  of  steps  into  the  pagoda;  a 
gentle  ascent,  not  tiresome.  On  either  side  of  the  way  were  devo- 
tees at  prayers,  or  beggars  waiting  for  their  rice;  or  booths  where 
you  could  buy  false  pearls,  imitation  diamonds,  beads,  packages  of 
gold  leaf,  flowers  and  cakes.  The  trinkets  and  flowers  are  given 
as  offerings  to  Buddha;  the  gold  leaf  was  sold  for  acts  of  piety. 


334  Autobiography  of 

Oh,  how  horrid  this  ;ill  S(M^m<^d  to  mo.  I  looked  at  the  sad 
expression  on  the  faces  of  the  poor  women  devotees,  and  then  1 
thought  that  they  would  go  on,  and  live  and  die,  and  never  know 
that  Jesus  died  that  they  might  live  and  have  life  and  happiness 
in  Him. 

Inside  of  this  park  where  the  pagoda  stands,  are  thousands  of 
gods,  of  all  sizes.  I  thought  I  would  count  them,  and  when  I  got. 
up  to  a  hundred  of  those  that  were  not  broken,  T  quit.  And  then 
to  think  of  the  many,  many  years  that  the  religion  of  Buddha  and 
Brahma  has  gone  on,  and  holds  such  sway  yet.  To  me  this  is 
among  the  incomprehensibles. 

The  Burmese  ladies  walk  about  in  the  street;  their  dress  is 
very  pretty;  a  very  handsome  figured  cloth,  almost  always  silk, 
and  just  wrapped  about  the  waist  and  tucked  in  at  the  side.  They 
do  not  fasten  them  with  pins  and  hooks  and  buttons,  as  we  do,  and 
yet  they  look  very  neat. 

You  never  see  a  Burmese  woman  with  her  hair  uncombed: 
but  they  use  no  hairpins;  how  they  put  it  up  I  don't  know;  but  it 
is  as  straight,  every  hair,  as  it  can  be.  It  is  done  like  the  Chinese 
women  do  their  hair. 

They  are  very  shrewd  business  women.  I  saw  them  unload- 
ing wood  and  marketing,  just  like  men;  and  in  any  kind  of  busi- 
ness you  will  see  Burmese  women  sharp  and  active. 

I  was  so  amused  to  see  the  Chinese  and  Burmese  carpenters. 
I  watched  them  one  day  as  they  were  building  a  house,  and  there 
would  be  a  half-dozen  men,  and  they  would  be  sitting  down  using 
their  planes,  holding  the  board  wit>h  their  toes.  They  have  some 
very  large  and  fine  buildings  there. 

Their  funerals  are  something  like  the  Hindoos'.  A  big  man 
had  died;  I  heard  a  great  sound  of  music,  such  as  they  have  there; 
I  can't  describe  it;  it  couldn't  be  described  by  music  that  we  hear 
here;  tin-pans  and  tambourines,  and  something  like  the  noise  that 
a  stove  pipe,  or  something  of  that  kind  would  make.  Oh,  it  was 
a  jingle.  Mrs.  Robinson  called  me  to  look  out  at  it;  it  was  on  the 
main  street  of  the  town,  and  it  was  a  large  funeral.  Dozens  of 
men  would  go  before  the  hearse  and  lay  down  cloth;  the  hearse 
would  drive  over  this  cloth;  and  so  they  went  on,  the  music  fol- 
lowing this  procession. 

When  a  poor  coolie  man  di'^s  they  carry  him  around  till  he 
becomes  so  offensive  that  I  was  told,  sometimes  the  authorities 


Native  Christian  Family,  India. 


Amanda  Smith.  325 

have  to  iiilci-ti'r*'.  They  give  them  all  the  chance  they  can  to 
come  to.  Bill,  poor  things!  they  are  dead,  three  times  dead; 
plucked  up  by  the  roots. 

Brother  Robinson,  pastor  of  the  Methodist  Church,  has  done 
a  good  work  in  Burmah,  and  his  influence  has  been  felt.  He  was 
much  thought  of  by  all  the  other  denominations. 

I  was  given  a  sketch  of  the  Burmese  religion.  One  of  the 
strong  points  in  their  religion  is  the  transmigration  of  the  soul. 
Guadama  was  the  last  great  man  born.  He  was  born  six  hundred 
and  twenty-five  years  before  Christ,  and  lived  in  this  world  about 
eighty  years.  He  was  the  son  of  Thokedaucareh,  king  of  Burmah. 
He  had  previously  lived  in  four  hundred  million  worlds,  and  had 
passed  through  innumerable  conditions  of  each.  He  had  been 
almost  every  son  of  worm,  fly,  fowl,  fish  or  animal,  and  almost 
every  grade  of  human  life.  At  length  he  was  born,  son  of  the 
above-named  king. 

The  moment  he  was  born  he  jumped  upon  his  feet,  and  spread- 
ing out  his  arms,  exclaimed.  "  Now  I  am  the  noblest  of  men.  This 
is  the  last  time  I  shall  ever  be  born." 

His  ears  were  so  beautifully  long  they  hung  on  his  shoulders. 
His  height  was  nine  cubits.  When  grown  up,  his  hands  reached 
to  his  knees;  his  fingers  were  of  equal  length,  and  with  his  tongue 
he  could  touch  the  end  of  his  nose! 

The  only  sacred  books  of  the  Buddhists  are  the  laws  and  say- 
ings of  Guadama. 

When  this  was  told  me,  and  explained  in  points  that  I  could 
not  pretend  to  give,  it  seemed  incredible;  and  yet,  when  one  is 
there,  and  mingles  much  with  the  people,  one  can  see  how  tena- 
ciously they  hold  to  just  that  superstitious  belief.  Oh,  how  dark- 
ness has  covered  the  land,  and  gross  darkness  the  people. 

Among  other  interests  in  Burmah  I  had  hoped  to  distribute 
about  eleven  Bibles  among  those  who  wanted  them.  I  knew  God 
would  bless  His  own  Word.  But  when  I  got  to  Calcutta,  where  I 
hoped  to  be  able  to  get  the  Bibles,  as  I  could  not  get  them  at  Bur- 
mah, I  found  that  Bibles  in  the  Burmese  language  were  very  large, 
and  very  expensive;  so  that  I  was  only  able  to  send  one,  to  a  very 
interesting  case,  a  Burmese  man,  with  whom  I  think  the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  was  working,  and  he  was  very  anxious  for  a  Bible. 

How  much  good  anyone  with  a  missionary  spirit  could  do  here 
in  Burmah,  or  India,  and  especially  if  he  or  she  had  an  aptness  in 
acquiring  the  language. 


326  Autobiography  of 

I  had  wished  thai  my  own  daughter  would  have  such  a  desire 
to  do  something  for  her  fellowmen.  I  have  prayed  and  asked  the 
Lord  to  thus  incline  her  heart,  if  He  would  have  her.  I  have  edu- 
cated her,  and  done  all  I  could,  as  far  as  I  was  able,  to  prepare  her 
for  a  useful  life;  and  now  I  leave  it  with  her  and  her  God.  He 
knows  my  heart.  I  long  to  have  her  do  what  I  know  she  could  do 
if  she  was  only  fully  consecrated  to  God.  I  would  not  have  her 
come  to  this  country  without  a  full  and  entire  consecration.  And 
in  her  own  land  I  fear  she  will  do  but  little  without  it,  like  so 
many  others.  When  I  think  of  what  God  has  done  forme,  and 
how  He  has  led  me  since  I  gave  myself  fully  to  Him,  I  am  encour- 
aged to  praise  Him  for  all  that  has  passed,  and  trust  Him  to  guide 
my  child  that  she  may  work  for  Him.     Amen. 

At  eight  o'clock  one  night  I  held  a  meeting  in  the  Methodist 
Church  for  colored  men  especially,  as  there  are  a  number  in  Bur- 
mah,  and  Rev.  Mr.  Robinson,  who  is  pastor  of  the  Methodist 
Church,  was  very  much  interested  in  these  men.  Several  of  them 
had  families;  and  he  had  tried  to  get  them  to  come  to  church. 

Being  an  American,  he  seemed  to  sympathize  with  them,  and 
to  know  how  they  felt  in  that  country  where  customs  are  so  ditfer- 
ent  from  what  they  are  in  the  United  States.  So  he  said  while  I 
was  there  he  thought  it  would  be  nice  to  call  them  together  and 
have  me  talk  to  them,  which  I  was  very  glad  to  do. 

There  was  a  nice  company  of  these  men  gathered;  some  were 
from  the  West  Indies,  some  from  the  west  coast  of  Africa,  and 
some  from  Boston,  Philadelphia,  and  Baltimore.  One  man  from 
the  West  Indies  had  been  in  Burmah  for  twenty  years. 

They  were  all  men  of  average  intelligence,  clean,  well-dressed, 
and  sober;  there  were  but  three  men  in  the  company  who  acted  a 
little  as  though  they  were  under  the  influence  of  strong  drink;  one 
of  these  was  from  Boston,  and  his  name  was  John  Gibbs.  He  had 
been  in  Burmah  sixteen  years;  another  was  a  Mr.  Jordan,  a  man 
of  good  position,  a  stevedore;  he  had  been  here  sixteen  years,  also; 
and  another,  a  fine  looking  young  man  from  Baltimore,  by  the 
name  of  Jenkins. 

There  were  about  twenty  of  these  men  in  all.  They  sang, 
just  like  colored  people  can  sing.  I  spoke  to  them  from  the  fifty- 
fifth  chapter  of  Isaiah.  I  dwelt  mostly  on  the  words,  "  Let  the 
wicked  forsake  his  ways,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts." 
The  Lord  helped  me,  and  His  Spirit  was  present. 


Amanda  Smith.  SS*? 

I  asked  before  I  began  who  amongst  them  was  converted. 
Only  one  man  answered;  he  was  a  grand,  old  man.  He  had  walked 
in  the  light  of  full  salvation,  and  followed  the  sea,  for  fifteen 
years. 

After  I  had  got  through  speaking  I  asked  him  to  pray;  he  did; 
and  how  the  Lord  helped  him!  He  said  he  had  been  in  Burmah 
twenty-five  years.  His  son  was  with  him;  a  nice  young  lad;  may 
God  save  him!  When  the  prayer  was  over,  I  said,  "  Is  there  any- 
thing you  would  like  to  sing?  " 

"Yes,"  said  one  young  man,  from  the  west  coast  of  Africa, 
and  who  had  been  here  only  three  days,  "Sing  such  a  number." 

I  found  it;  it  was,  "Stand  up  for  Jesus,  Christians,  stand." 
As  soon  as  it  was  announced  they  all  seemed  to  know  it,. and  they 
sang  it  well.  After  they  were  seated  I  talked  to  them  a  while.  I 
said,  "  Now,  who  of  you  would  like  to  have  us  pray  for  you  ?  Hold 
up  your  hand." 

And  six  or  seven  said,  "Pray  for  me."  Then  Brother  Robin- 
son, the  pastor  of  the  church,  spoke  to  them.  Then  after  another 
season  of  prayer,  I  said,  "What  shall  we  sing  to  close?"  when 
young  Gibbs,  from  Boston,  said,  "Please  sing  'God  our  help  in 
ages  past.' " 

■  He  started  it,  and  they  sang  it  as  if  they  knew  how.  Oh,  it 
was  good.  How  I  have  prayed  that  God  would  get  glory  out  of 
this  meeting  to  Himself,  and  save  those  men.     Amen. 

In  talking  I  told  them  I  believed  that  God  meant  they  should 
live  in  a  heathen  land  as  Christians,  and  as  colored  men  they 
should  show  the  heathen  with  whom  they  came  in  contact  that 
their  God,  whom  they  are  taught  to  believe,  is  able  to  save  them 
out  here,  as  well  as  at  home. 

We  arranged  to  have  them  come  together  on  Wednesday  even- 
ing for  a  little  tea  meeting.  May  God  help  us.  Would  to  God 
that  He  would  anoint  some  one  who  would  work  his  way  to  this 
land,  rather  than  not  to  come  at  all,  and  see  after  the  flock  here 
that  stray  and  wonder  and  have  no  shepherd.  I  saw  this  need  in 
Liverpool,  England;  and  also  in  Bombay  and  Calcutta 

These  were  colored  men;  my  own  people.  Some  of  them  had 
left  good.  Christian  homes,  and  started  out  Christians  themselves. 
But  they  get  into  these  ports,  and  there  are  no  colored  churches  or 
missions  to  go  to,  and  they  feel  lonely,  and  ofter  give  up  all  hope 
in  Christ. 


328  Autobiography  op 

How  my  heart  has  ached  for  them.  How  I  wish  that  my 
people  in  America  might  feel  that  they  had  a  mission  in  this, 
looking  after  th«se  poor  men  that  brave  the  stormy  sea.  1  wish 
they  could  think  and  feel  about  it,  and  put  their  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings in  action,  as  the  white  people  do;  for  in  every  port  there  is  work 
done  among  white  sailors;  and  if  any  men  deserve  to  be  looked 
after,  and  comforted,  and  helped,  and  cheered,  it  is  these  brave 
men,  white  and  black. 

I  hardly  ever  hear  the  wind  blow  at  night  that  my  heart  does 
not  breathe  a  prayer  to  God  for  sailors.  How  many  young  men, 
and  old  ones,  too,  leave  their  homes  converted,  and  many  times  get 
through  the  voyage  all  right;  but  they  have  no  place  to  go  to  but 
these  sailors'  boarding  houses,  and  they  are  thrown  in  with  all 
sorts  of  sin  and  wickedness,  and  they  finall}'  drop  into  those  ways. 

How  my  heart  has  ached  for  them  as  I  have  seen  them  in  Lon-  * 
don  and  Liverpool;  they  could  go  to  church  and  be  better  treated 
there  than  in  the  white  churches  at  home;  but  the  old  feeling  of 
prejudice  follows  them,  and  they  seldom  venture  to  church.  If 
there  were  a  church  or  place  of  worship  where  they  knew  their  own 
people  were  assembled,  they  would  feel  free  to  go,  I  thin...  That 
is  why  I  think  our  ministers  at  home  should  take  this  into  consid- 
eration. 

A  good  many  of  our  American  men,  when  they  get  to  England, 
or  India,  or  Burmah,  or  any  other  country,  if  they  stay,  feel  they 
must  get  a  wife,  of  whatever  place  they  are  in;  if  in  England,  an 
English  wife;  if  in  Burmah,  a  Burmese  wife,  and  so  on;  and,  in  so 
many  of  these  instances,  when  these  sailors  do  marry,  whether  it 
is  a  white  woman  in  England,  or  whether  in  Burmah,  or  anywhere 
else,  it  is  generally  somebody  that  likes  whisky;  and  that  is  the 
sad  part  of  it. 

In  Burmah  it  seemed  that  these  men  were  better  off  than  the 
most  that  one  meets  on  foreign  shores;  some  of  them  were  engineers 
on  railways,  some  conductors,  some  in  government  service,  and 
they  all  had  good  positions,  and  made  money.  Some  of  them  Lad 
nice  families  of  children;  but  their  wives  didn't  go  to  church,  and 
their  children  didn't  go  to  Sabbath  School;  so  they  generally  were 
a  hindrance  to  their  husbands,  instead  of  a  help,  in  that  respect. 

One  has  no  idea  of  what  these  things  mean,  unless  they  Ai<j 
just  where  they  can  see  and  know  it. 

The  Lord  blessed  me  very  greatly  in  Burmah.     The  Baptists 


Amanda  Smith.  339 

were  very  kind,  and  I  held  meetings  in  their  several  churches.  At 
one  church,  where  a  Mr.  :Norris  was  pastor,  we  had  a  week's  ser- 
vices, and  the  Lord  gave  us  great  blessing  in  the  work.  The  Bap- 
tist missionaries  in  Burmah  have  done,  and  are  doing,  a  grand 
work.  I  stayed  at  the  Mission  House,  with  a  Miss  Barrows.  It 
was  there  I  heard  more  of  the  great  Dr.  Judson,  and  Dr.  Gary, 
thos '  noble  pioneer  missionaries,  than  1  had  ever  known  before.  1 
was  sitting  by  Mrs.  Judson's  grave,  and  looking  upon  it,  as  Miss 
Barrows  told^me  some  of  the  story  of  her  life,  and,  for  a  relic,  I 
took  a  very  smooth  pebble  that  lay  on  the  head  of  that  noble 
woman's  grave.  And  I  thought  of  the  blessed  Word,  "He  that 
goeth  forth  weeping  and  bearing  precious  seed,  shall  doubtless 
return  again,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him." 

Wednesday,  April  6th.  We  leave  to-day  by  steamer,  for  Cal- 
cutta. 

Monday,  April  11th.  Arrive  at  Calcutta.  Thank  God.  Dr. 
Thoburn  and  Dr.  Stone  come  off  for  us.  Get  home  and  have  a 
little  rest,  for  which  we  are  very  grateful.  1  shall  never  forget 
the  Christian  kindness  of  this  blessed  man  of  God.  I  spent  so 
manv  pleasant  days  in  his  comfortable  home.  What  a  blessing 
God  has  made  him  to  the  church,  and  to  the  thousands  all  over 
India,  and  in  the  United  States  as  well. 

To-night  at  six,  I  spoke  to  the  baubaus,  in  the  public  square. 
God,  I  believe,  blessed  His  Word.  We  had  an  after  meeting,  and 
several  English  soldiers  came  forward  and  sought  the  Lord. 

It  is  wonderful  to  hear  Dr.  Thoburn  preach  a  sermon  in 
English,  and  turn  right  away  without  saying  so,  and  preach  the 
same  sermon,  word  for  word,  with  energy  and  power,  in  three 
other  different  languages,  according  to  the  company  gathered  — 
Hindustanee,  Bengalee,  and  Maratee  — preaching  the  wonderful 
story  of  Jesus  to  the  great  multitudes  that  gather.    God  bless  him. 

Sunday,  17th.  Easter  Sunday.  Somehow  I  always  have  a 
peculiar  love  for  this  day.  It  is  the  Christian's  victory  day.  For, 
if  Christ  ba  not  risen,  then  have  the  people  heard  in  vain,  and  our 
preaching  is  vain.     But,  glory  to  God,  He  is  risen. 

'•  The  rising  God  forsakes  the  tomb; 
In  vain  the  tomb  forbids  Him  rise; 
Cherubic  legions  guard  Him  home. 

And  shout  Him  welcome  to  the  skies.'* 
Hallelujah! 


330  Autobiography  op  Amanda  Smith. 

Wednesday,  20th.  I  go  with  Dr.  Stone  to  Hastings.  A  good 
temperance  meeting.  Then  with  Dr.  Thoburn  and  some  others, 
breakfast  with  Miss  Hood,  at  the  Presbyterian  Mission  School. 
How  very  kin'\  they  have  all  been  to  me.     God  bless  them. 

Friday,  32nd.  Mrs.  Meyers  and  I  go  to  do  a  little  shopping.  I 
need  some  things,  as  I  am  getting  ready  to  leave  for  England,  and 
how  wonderfully  God  has  supplied  my  temporal  needs. 

Sunday,  May  8th.  My  last  Sunday  in  Calcutta.  In  the  morn- 
ing I  speak  at  Dr.  Thoburn's  Church,  and  at  night  in  Carson's 
Theatre.  This  was  my  first  time  in  a  theatre,  but  God  helped  me 
to  speak  for  Him  that  night,  and  I  trust  good  was  done. 

Saturday,  May  21st.     Leave  at  half-past  five  for  the  steamer. 

Sunday,  22nd.     We  are  out  on  the  ocean  and  all  sick. 

Wednesday,  June  15th.  We  enter  the  English  channel  this 
morning;  not  too  hot  and  not  too  cold. 

Thursday,  16th,  1881.  Praise  God,  we  arrive  all  safe.  God 
has  answered  praj^er  for  the  sick  child  that  was  on  board,  so  it  is 
better.  My  dear  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stavely,  meet  me  at  the 
landing  and  give  me  a  hearty  welcome.     Amen. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

AFRICA  —  INCIDENTS  OF  THE  VOYAGE  —  MONROVIA  —  FIRST  FOURTH 
OF  JULY  THERE — A  SCHOOL  FOR  BOYS  —  CAPE  PALMAS  — 
BASSA — TEMPERANCE    WORK  —  THOMAS   ANDERSON. 

i  arrived  in  Monrovia  on  the  18th  of  January,  1882.  I  left 
Liverpool  on  the  31st  of  December,  1881.  On  the  7th  of  January, 
1882,  I  arri/ed  at  Madeira;  spent  a  few  hours  with  Mr.  Wm.  G. 
Smart,  of  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society.  He  is  a  mission- 
ary to  the  sailors.  He  came  on  board  our  steamer.  I  was  intro- 
duced, and,  after  he  had  had  some  conversation  with  the  sailors, 
he  usked  me  if  I  would  like  to  go  ashore.  I  told  him  I  would,  and 
when  he  was  ready  he  called  for  his  boat,  and  away  we  went. 

We  had  a  little  stroll  through  the  very  primitive  old  town,  to 
the  post  office,  then  to  Mr.  Smart's  house.  He  showed  me  some 
repairing  they  had  already  done,  and  a  large  place  was  then  under 
repair  for  a  school  and  sailors'  reading  room.  Formerly  it  had 
been  a  store-house  for  spirits.  When  he  told  me  of  the  change  I 
was  glad;  and  sang  as  I  stood  in  the  street,  "Praise  God,  from 
whom  all  blessings  flow." 

Then  we  went  into  the  house,  Mrs.  Smart  was  ill  in  bed;  but, 
oh,  such  a  sweet,  earnest,  out-and-out  Christian,  one  don't  often 
meet  in  a  foreign  land.  I  spent  three  hours  with  tiiem,  and  had 
an  tiegant  dinner,  and  sang  and  prayed. 

niadeira  is  almost  all  Roman  Catholic.  The  window  of  the 
prit-si/s  house  looks  right  into  Mr.  Smart's  silling  room.  His  win- 
dows are  often  hoisted  mornings  and  eveni!!";s  when  they  have 
family  worship,  and  they  say  the  priest  is  not  bigoted,  and  they 
often  see  him  listening  to  the  songs  and  prayers.  May  the  Lord 
mightily  awaken  him!     Amen! 

About  eight  o'clock  the  boat  took  me  to  the  steamer  again, 
as**}  I  was  much  refreshed  and  encouraged  on  my  way. 

(331) 


333  Autobiography  op 

On  Monday,  New  Year's  Day,  we  were  at  Grand  Canary.  A 
very  pretty  looking  place  from  the  ship.  Here  we  got  vegetables. 
This  is  the  home  of  all  the  canaries  in  the  world,  I  am  told. 

The  captain  and  some  of  the  officers  and  passengers  went 
ashore.  It  was  a  magnificent,  moonlight  night.  The  captain 
asked  me  to  join  the  party,  but  I  declined;  I  quite  preferred  quiet 
and  the  lovely  moonlight.  After  a  few  hours  the  whistle  blew, 
the  anchor  lifted,  and  we  were  off.  Oh,  this  narrow  bunk,  and' 
this  dreadful  rolling!     I  shall  be  so  glad  when  I  am  through. 

The  next  stop  is  at  Sierra  Leone.  And  now  three  days  to  Mon- 
rovia. This  is  a  very  busy  looking  place.  A  great  many  come  on 
board  to  get  work.  They  are  called  coolies.  Some  of  them  opened 
my  trunks  and  helped  themselves.  There  was  a  white  Wesleyan 
minister  that  came  on  board  who  was  very  kind,  and  as  we  were 
there  for  a  day,  I  would  like  to  have  gone  ashore.  I  asked  him 
about  the  prosperity  of  the  work  and  the  churches.  He  didn't 
seem  to  speak  very  favorably.  He  said  that  the  colored  mission- 
aries were  not  men  that  could  be  depended  upon  to  advance  and 
develop  the  work  as  one  might  suppose. 

At  this  I  felt  quite  indignant,  and  thought  it  was  because  he 
was  a  white  man,  and  simply  said  that  about  colored  men.  But 
after  I  had  been  there  awhile,  and  got  to  understand  things  better, 
I  quite  agreed  with  what  the  missionary  told  me  on  my  first  arrival 
on  those  shores. 

The  captain  and  purser  were  very  kind.  They  were  greatly 
annoyed  to  think  that  my  trunks  had  been  interfered  with.  They 
stopped  at  Sierra  Leone  to  take  on  coal.  My  largest  trunk  was 
down  in  the  held,  where  all  the  large  trunks  were,  and  these 
coolies  were  loading  coal  all  day,  and  so  were  down  in  the  hold  a 
good  deal,  where  the  trunks  were. 

The  first  I  knew  of  it  was,  I  was  up  on  deck,  and  as  I  went  to 
look  over  on  the  lower  deck,  just  at  the  side  of  the  ship,  where  the 
steps  go  down.  I  saw  one  of  the  officers  have  a  pair  of  shoes  in  his 
hand,  and  I  fHought  they  looked  like  my  shoes;  but  I  knew  my 
shoes  were  in  the  trunk.  Then  I  thought  somebody  had  come  on 
to  sell  things,  as  they  did.  All  at  once  I  heard  a  great  outcry  of 
"Thief,  thief,  thief!"  And  then  I  saw  them  bringing  a  man 
along  from  aft;  a  nice  looking  fellow,  tall  and  clean  looking;  and 
he  was  declaring  to  all  that  was  above  and  below  that  he  had  not 
touched  anything,  and  that  he  was  not  the  thief. 


Amanda  Smith.  333 

I  foil  so  OAd  lor  him.  The  head  man  had  hold  of  him,  declar- 
ing he  did  have  the  thiags,  and  he  declaring  he  did  not.  Then  I 
thought  the  head  man,  being  a  black  man,  too,  was  very  hard. 
But  he  let  him  go,  and  the  storm  was  lulled  for  awhile.  Just  then 
some  one  said  in  a  low  tone,  "  Look  under  his  shirt."  So  the  head 
man  jumped  at  him  and  lifted  his  shirt  (which  was  outside  his 
pants),  and  there,  if  that  fellow  didn't  have  twelve yardsof  flannel 
wrapped  all  about  his  body! 

Then  I  said  to  the  man  below,  "Maybe  those  are  my  shoes." 

"You  had  belter  come  down,"  he  said,  "and  see." 

So  I  did;  I  put  my  foot  in  the  shoe,  and  sure  enough,  it  was 

my  shoe. 

"  There,"  I  said,  "  my  trunk  has  been  opened." 
So  I  had  them  bring  it  up;  the  catch  in  the  lock  had  been 
broken,  then  it  had  been  filled  up  with  pitch,  so  it  would  stick;  it 
looked  as  though  it  had  not  been  touched;  but  there  they  set  it  on 
the  deck,  and  all  stood  around  while  I  went  down  into  it.  The 
tray  had  been  carefully  lifted  out,  and  just  what  they  wanted  had 
been  picked  out,  and  they  were  gone.  Some  of  the  things  I  got. 
Others,  and  among  them  some  very  choice  ones,  1  never  got.  But 
the  Lord  kept  my  heart  very  quiet;  the  captain  and  officers  looked 
perfectly  astounded  because  I  didn't  rave.  The  captain  said 
to  me: 

"Mrs.  Smith,  I  don't  see  how  you  do  keep  your  temper." 
"Well,"  I  said,  "Captain,  T  am  sorry  to  lose  the  things,  and  if 
losing  my  temper  and  getting  in  a  rage  would  bring  them  back, 
you  would  see  me  cut  a  shine." 

"Well,"  he  said,  "I  don't  understand  it,   Mrs.  Smith;  it  is 

too  bad." 

They  did  everything  they  could  for  me,  and  wanted  me  to  go 
ahsore  and  give  my  affidavit  against  the  man.  But  they  had 
enough,  because  there  was  another  passenger  whose  trunk  had 
been  opened,  where  the  flannel,  and  spap,  and  quinine,  and  all 
these  things  had  been  taken  out;  so  I  thought  I  got  on  very  well, 
and  I  told  him  that  I  wouldn't  go. 

Wednesday  morning,  Jan.  18th.  Monrovia.  We  are  in  the 
harbor.  The  beautiful  palm  trees  in  sight.  We  are  anchored. 
Breakfast  at  nine.     And  now  here  is  Miss  Sharp.    Glad  to  see  her. 

We  are  soon  off  for  the  shore.  The  tide  is  very  high,  and 
crossing  the  bar,  just  before  we  get  inside,  I  sing  the  Doxology 


334  Autobiography  of 

and  the  rest  join  in  the  chorus.  Five  minutes  more  and  the 
kroomen,  being  attracted  by  our  singing  and  not  paying  attention, 
let  a  great  wave  break  over  us  and  we  were  wet  through.  I  was 
glad  we  sang  before  we  got  wet,  for  not  one  of  us  sang  afterward! 

There  was  one  white  man  in  our  boat,  a  German,  a  Mr.  Amyre, 
and  Miss  Sharp  and  myself.  I  went  to  her  house  at  the  Seminary 
and  stayed  three  weeks  and  three  days.  Then  the  Lord  led  me 
forth.     Amen. 

My  first  Sabbath  1  was  asked  by  the  pastor  of  the  Methodist 
Church,  Rev.  Charles  Pitman,  to  take  the  service.  I  did  so,  and 
spoke  to  a  crowded  house,  and  the  Lord  wonderfully  helped  me; 
and  the  following  Tuesday,  Wednesday  and  Thursday  nights  I 
was  asked  to  continue,  and  did  so,  and  some,  I  trust,  were  saved. 

Friday,  Jan.  20th.  I  took  my  first  boat  ride,  up  the  St.  Paul 
river  to  the  Muehlenberg  Mission,  Rev.  David  Day,  of  the  Lutheran 
Church.     I  had  a  delightful  time  at  Brother  Day's. 

Sunday,  32d.  Communion.  I  speak  three  times,  to  all  that 
can  be  packed  in  the  little  chapel.  The  afternoon  was  for  the' 
children,  as  they  had  been  crowded  out  in  the  morning,  but  the 
big  folks  crowded  in  after  the  children  were  seated.  So  we  had  a 
good  time.     Praise  the  Lord. 

Monday,  23d.  I  leave  for  New  Georgia,  Rev.  Mr.  Hargrave's 
appointment.     I  speak  in  the  Baptist  Church  to  a  large  company. 

Tuesday,  24th.  I  leave  this  morning  for  Monrovia.  Go  to  Dr. 
Stanford's  for  dinner.     Call  and  see  Dr.  Garnet  in  the  evening. 

Friday,  27th.  Call  to  see  President  Payne.  And  on  Monday 
I  saw  him  for  the  last  time  on  earth.  I  was  taken  down  Tuesday 
night  with  fever,  and  it  was  ten  days  before  I  was  able  to  go  out 
again.     On  Monday  night,  the  30th,  Mr.  Payne  died. 

Tuesday,  Feb.  7th.  I  leave  Miss  Sharp's,  and  am  invited  to 
Mrs.  Payne's,  a  home  I  feel  God  Himself  has  given  me.  Oh,  how 
I  do  praise  Him!     I  am  comfortable,  and  have  every  care. 

My  first  "  Fourth  of  July  "  in  Monrovia,  Africa,  must  not  pass 
without  a  brief  notice,  only  they  celebrate  the  28th  instead  of  the 
ith,  as  we  do  in  America.  A  tirade  was  given  on  that  day  by  the 
Hon.  R.  H.  W.  Johnson,  against  the  churches.     He  said: 

"Liberia  should  be  independent  in  her  religions  as  well  as  in 
her  politics.  But  what  does  the  foreign  church  bring  us?  They 
don't  come  with  the  pure  Word  of  God.  They  come  with  some 
old  traditions  about  the  wickedness  of  Nimrod,  and  other  old 


Amanda  Smith.  335 

customs  handed  down  by  tho  Jews,  who  relegate  to  hell  everybody 
but  themselves.  They  come  with  some  old  pro-slavery  traditions 
that  assign  all  negroes  to  inferiority  and  eternal  perdition.  They 
come  with  all  kinds  of  'isms,'  and  'schisms,'  and  doctrines,  and 
disputes,  and  contentions,  of  more  than  fifteen  hundred  years' 
standing;  contentions  thnt  have  caused  rivers  of  blood  to  be  poured 
out  on  the  earth;  contentions  and  doctrines  which  not  only  the 
people  of  Liberia  do  not  understand,  but  which  have  never  been 
understood  by  those  who  bring  them  to  us.  You  may  be  sure 
that  any  religion  that  teaches  the  inferiority  of  the  negro  never 
came  from  heaven." 

This  was  the  first  big  speech  that  I  had  heard,  and  I  was 
astonished  beyond  measure.  The  church  was  filled  with  the  best 
people  of  the  capital  and  of  the  republic,  ladies  and  gentlemen. 

This  address  was  received  with  enthusiasm  and  delight.  And 
yet  every  one  of  them  knew  that  no  such  religion  had  ever  been 
taught  in  Liberia.  But  these  are  some  of  the  things  you  meet  on 
your  first  arrival.  I  think  I  discovered  a  change  before  I  left,  and 
trust  it  is  still  growing  better. 

While  here,  I  saw  a  great  need  among  the  native  boys  that 
lived  in  Liberian  families.  Some  of  them  go  to  Sunday  School, 
but  many,  like  in  this  country,  did  not  go  at  all.  I  thought  if  I  had 
a  place  of  my  own  I  might  do  something  for  them.  I  saw  how 
they  could  be  gathered  in  for  an  hour  or  two  after  the  regular 
Sabbath  School  was  over.  I  thought  they  might  be  helped  a  little. 
They  would  gather  together  and  go  in  numbers  to  walk  about  as 
they  would  say,  or  go  to  Krootown,  where  they  would  not  be  any 
better  for  so  doing.     I  saw  this.  Sabbath  after  Sabbath. 

I  thought  if  I  had  the  money  I  might  get  some  place.  There 
were  no  houses  to  let  there  as  here.  There  was  an  old  seminary 
building  and  it  was  much  out  of  repair,  but  still  there  were  sev- 
eral rooms  in  it  that  could  be  used  if  they  could  be  cleaned. 
There  was  a  large  garden  that  was  all  grown  up  with  weeds. 

All  this  would  take  money  to  clear  up.  I  did  not  have  it;  so 
I  began  to  pray  the  Lord  to  put  it  in  the  heart  of  some  of  my 
friends  at  home  to  send  me  money.  I  had  been  around  in  America 
to  so  many  camp  meetings  and  in  different  churches,  and  so  many 
different  parts  of  the  country,  east,  west,  north  and  south,  and 
everybody  seemed  to  know  Amanda  Smith,  so  many  had  helped 
me  often,  while  there,  and  they  would  remember  me  now  in  Africa, 
and  so  help  me. 


336  Autobiography  of 

Up  lo  this  time  no  one  had  sent  me  any  money  from  home, 
but  God  wanted  to  teach  me  a  lesson  that  I  must  needs  learn,  so 
now  on  good  faith  I  began  to  pray  as  I  had  always  done,  for  I  never 
tell  people  my  need;  I  always  make  my  needs  known  directly  to 
God.  I  prayed  the  Lord  to  put  it  into  the  hearts  of  some  of  my 
friends.  I  would  think  of  one  in  New  York,  then  another  in 
Philadelphia,  another  in  Boston,  another  in  Ohio,  and  so  I  prayed 
the  Lord  would  influence  the  hcartsof  these  to  send  me  the  needed 
money  for  this  work. 

Week  after  week  passed  on  and  no  money  came.  I  still  prayed 
on;  I  knew  in  so  many  hundreds  of  necessities  where  God  had 
heard  my  prayer  for  temporal  things.  I  told  him  He  knew  I  was 
not  asking  for  myself,  1  had  a  comfortable  home  with  dear  Sister 
Patsey  Payne,  of  precious  memory. 

While  in  her  home  I  was  well  nursed  and  cared  for  when  I 
was  sick  with  fever.  My  own  mother  and  sister  and  brother  could 
not  have  been  kinder  to  me  than  Sister  Payne  and  h(^r  daughter 
Miss  Clavender,  and  her  dear  brother,  B.  Y.  Payne.  I  feel  to  say 
as  one  of  old:  "  Let  my  right  hand  forget  her  cunning  and  my 
tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth,"  if  I  ever  forget  the  loving 
kindness  shown  to  me  in  their  home  while  in  Monrovia.  But  for 
the  care  I  had  while  passing  through  the  fever  T  believe  I  should 
have  been  dead  and  in  my  grave  to-day.  How  dear  Miss  C. 
watched  over  me  and  nursed  me.  I  saw  she  was  worn  and  weary 
and  I  got  a  friend  to  come  in  and  stay  with  me  one  night.  When 
I  told  Miss  C,  she  said: 

"  No,  auntie  (for  they  all  called  me  Auntie  Smith),  I  would 
rather  watch  myself;  I  will  not  sleep,  though  I  know  you  have 
some  one  with  you." 

She  was  a  splendid  nurse.  One  might  have  thought  she  had 
been  trained  in  some  American  institution;  but  I  insisted  on  having 
this  person  come  in,  so  she  came  in.  It  was  not  lOng  till  the  poor 
thing  fell  asleep.  I  was  nervous  and  restless,  so  asked  her  for 
something,  and  dear  Miss  C.  came  and  handed  what  I  wanted,  and 
said  Mrs.  T.  is  asleep. 

She  did  not  go  out  of  my  room  all  night,  so  after  that  I  said, 
"  Well,  if  you  are  not  going  to  lie  down  there  is  no  use  in  my  hav- 
ing Mrs.  T.  come  in." 

She  was  delighted,  and  said  I  told  you  not  to  do  it.  I  thank 
God  because  of  good  and  proper  care.    Though  my  attacks  of  fever 


Miss  C.  Paine, 
Mr.  B.  Y.  Paine. 


Miss  Corrin  Paine. 
Mrs.  Patsy  Paine. 


Amanda  Smith.  337 

were  severe  they  did  not  keep  me  down  long,  two  weeks  would  be 
the  longest.  As  soon  as  I  was  able  I  would  be  at  my  work  holding 
meetings,  and  out  at  night,  which  is  not  the  wisest  and  best  thing 
for  a  new-comer  going  through  acclimating  fever. 

Again  to  my  subject.  I  still  prayed  for  the  money,  then 
waited,  weeks  went  on,  steamers  came  and  went,  letters  came,  but 
no  money.  Sabbath  after  Sabbath  passed  on;  there  were  these 
native  boys  I  wanted  to  help,  and  still  it  did  not  come,  so  one  day 
I  went  to  the  Lord  and  asked  Him  what  it  meant,  that  He  knew 
what  I  wanted  to  do  for  these  poor  native  boys,  and  He  seemed  to 
say  to  me: 

"You  are  not  trusting  in  Me,  you  are  trusting  in  America; 
you  are  looking  to  America  for  help  more  than  to  Me." 

I  saw  it  in  a  moment.  Yes,  it  was  true,  I  really  was  leaning 
on  America. 

"Lord,"  I  said  "forgive  me  and  help  me  to  give  up  every 
hope  in  America  and  trust  in  Thee  the  living  God;  "  and  I  let  go 
and  rose,  praising  the  Lord  for  showing  me  my  mistake. 

About  two  weeks  after  this  a  letter  from  my  good  and  very 
faithful  friend,  Mrs.  Margaret  Davis,  of  Ireland,  whom  God  hath 
raised  up  to  help  me  as  surely  as  He  ever  raised  up  a  prophet  in 
Israel.  Oh,  what  that  Christian  lady  did  for  me  while  in  Africa 
tongue  can  never  tell,  eternity  alone  has  the  record. 

In  her  letter  was  a  five  pound  note;  so  God,  in  His  own  way, 
began  to  help  me.  Then  shortly  after  this  another  token  of 
another  answer  to  prayer,  a  friend  in  India  sent  me  five  pounds; 
then  after  I  had  learned  my  lesson  well  a  letter  from  the  Western 
Christian  Advocate  from  America  came  with  five  dollars  in  it,  and 
several  times  from  the  same  source  came  small  sums;  then  some 
friends  from  Mrs.  Carrie  Judd's  home,  in  Rochester,  sgiTu  me  a 
small  sum;  then  some  friends  sent  me  some  through  Mr.  r:3cli;.rd 
Grant. 

So  God  showed  me  when  I  had  learned  to  let  goof  human  iie^p 
and  expectation,  and  trust  in  Him  alone,  that  He  could  take  cci'C 
of  me  without  America  if  He  wanted  to,  for  He  had  sent  oie  Co 
Africa  Himself  and  I  must  trust  Him  to  see  me  through. 

I  went  to  Brother  Cooper,  who  then  had  the  old  seminary 
building  in  charge  to  look  after,  and  got  permission  to  use  one  of 
the  rooms.  I  got  a  man  to  whitewash  it  and  have  the  rear  and 
garden  cleaned  of  weeds,  and  the  brush  burned,  then  myself  and 


338  Autobiography  op 

one  or  two  whom  I  could  get,  washed  the  windows  and  scrubbed 
the  floors  and  I  covered  the  chairs  with  some  of  the  cloth  that 
Mrs.  Davis  had  sent  me  in  a  box,  and  put  curtains  to  the  windows 
and  had  some  glass  put  in,  and  after  days  of  hard  work  I  got 
things  in  order. 

Mrs.  Davis  had  sent  me  in  a  box  a  number  of  cards  and  Scrip- 
ture texts.  Whenever  she  sent  me  a  box  it  seemed  she  thought 
about  everything.  If  T  had  sent  an  order  myself  I  could  not  have 
been  more  explicit  and  thoughtful  of  what  I  really  needed  than 
was  Mrs.  Davis.  So  I  had  these  nice  mottoes  for  the  wall.  Oh,  it 
did  make  it  look  cozy  and  nice.  Different  friends  would  come  in 
and  greatly  admire  them. 

My  first  meeting  was  held  on  Friday  afternoon,  it  was  a  Bible 
reading,  a  number  of  persons  came  out.  Then  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing at  six  A.  M.,  we  held  our  band  meeting  that  I  had  reorganized 
months  before,  and  Sister  Payne,  my  hostess,  was  appointed 
leader. 

In  a  week  or  two  after  this  a  vessel  came  in  — the  bark  "Mon- 
rovia," and  the  Librarian  Conference  was  to  be  held  at  Bassa.  I 
wanted  to  go  to  the  Conference,  so  this  was  my  only  chance.  I  took 
this  opportunity,  and,  though  it  would  bring  me  there  a  week  in 
advance,  it  was  better  to  go  then,  than  not  to  go  at  all;  I  want  to 
stay  three  weeks,  so  I  thought;  when  I  got  there  the  Lord  seemed 
to  direct  me  to  go  to  Cape  Palmas.  I  had  been  trying  to  get  to 
Cape  Palmas  for  two  years,  but  was  hindered  time  after  time,  so  I 
gave  up  all  hopes  of  going. 

Now,  when  I  got  to  Bassa,  and  found  that  Bishop  Taylor  was 
going,  after  the  Conference,  direct  to  Cape  Palmas,  I  said  to  him, 
"  Bishop,  I  have  been  trying  so  hard  to  get  to  Cape  Palmas,  and  I 
heard  you  were  going  direct  from  the  Conference  to  Monrovia." 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I  am  going  straight  on  to  Cape  Palmas." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "now,  as  I  have  been  trying  so  hard  to  get 
there,  it  seems  that  this  is  my  chance,  what  do  you  think  about  it, 
Bishop?" 

"Well,  Amanda,  I  think  the  Lord  will  have  you  go  now,  and 
1  am  just  as  sure  the  Lord  is  in  it  as  I  ever  was  sure  of  anything." 

I  had  left  my  little  native  girl  at  Monrovia,  so  I  asked  Brother 
Patman  if  he  would  take  Frances  to  his  house.  They  lived  at 
Paynesville. 

Mrs.  P.  was  very  kind  to  native  children,  and  I  knew  it  would 


Amanda  SMi-tti.  339 

be  a  good  home  for  Frances;  then,  it  was  out  of  town.  Brother 
Patman  at  once  said,  "Why,  yes,  Sister  Smith,  Frances  will  be 
just  like  the  other  children,  if  you  will  be  satisfied,  we  will  see 
after  her  and  do  all  we  can  for  her." 

Then  I  was  confirmed,  for  this  was  the  only  difficulty  I  had; 
when  that  was  settled,  it  was  all  clear,  so  I  went  to  Cape  Palmas 
with  Bishop  Taylor. 

I  will  not  stop  to  say  now  about  the  meeting  and  the  first  work, 
but  will,  later  on. 

I  did  not  get  back  to  Monrovia  again  for  two  years  and  three 
months,  so  that  ended  my  work  that  I  hoped  to  do  for  the  native 
boys,  but  the  Bible  readings  and  the  Sunday  morning  meetings, 
Sister  Payne  kept  up  till  she  died;  then  Sister  Julia  Sanders,  one 
of  God's  noble  women,  was  appointed,  and  has  led  on  the  little 
band  which  is  the  spiritual  bone  and  sinew  of  the  church  even  tc 
this  day. 

I  have  never  seen  a  nobler  band  of  Christian  women  anywhere, 
considering  what  they  have  to  contend  with,  many  of  them  in 
their  own  homes  as  well  as  outside.  They  have  been  a  lighthouse 
and  source  of  salt  to  all  the  marshy  places  around  about  them. 

Thank  God,  even  in  Africa,  there  are  those  who  have  power 
to  keep  the  banner  of  holiness  unfurled  and  sing  as  they  march:— 

"  All  hail  reproach  or  sorrow, 
For  Jesus  leads  me  there." 

And  these  shall  walk  with  God,  for  they  are  worthy.     Amen, 

July  1st,  1882.  Clay-Ashland.  Just  two  weeks  ago  I  came  to 
Clay-Ashland,  and  my  stopping  place  is  on  the  St.  Paul  river,  with 
Mr.  Henry  and  Miss  Martha  Ricks,  or  "  Uncle  Henry"  and  "Aunt 
Martha,"  as  they  are  more  accustomed  to  being  called.  They  are 
both  devoted  Christians. 

I  am  very  comfortable  and  feel  quite  at  home  with  them.  And 
Cousin  Sarah  is  a  jewel.     God  bless  her. 

Rev.  Mr.  Richards  is  pastor  of  the  Methodist  Church.  He 
asked  me  if  I  would  take  the  service  on  Sabbath  morning.  I  chose 
the  words  for  the  basis  of  my  remarks,  "Awake  thou  that  sleepest 
and  arise  from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light."  These 
are  the  words  the  Lord  seemed  to  impress  on  my  mind  from  my 
observation  of  the  feeling  among  the  people.  The  Lord  helped  me 
to  deliver  the  message  and  blessed  the  people;  and  there  seemed  to 


340  Autobiography  of 

come  upon  them  a  spirit  of  revival,  and  there  was  a  prayer  meet- 
ing appointred,  and  on  Thursday  evening  I  took  the  service  again; 
then  they  appointed  a  prayer  meeting  for  Friday  afternoon;  one 
seeker  came  forward  for  prayers;  then  there  was  another  meeting 
appointed  for  Monday  afternoon.  On  Wednesday  and  Thursday  I 
gave  some  Bible  readings. 

July  25th,  1882.  On  Thursday  night  the  Lord  was  with  us  in 
power;  the  altar  was  crowded^  and  a  number  professed  to  have 
found  peace  there  were  some  grand  cases  of  real  conversion. 
Praise  the  Lord. 

We  went  on  holding  three  meetings  a  day,  in  the  morning  at 
six  o'clock,  in  the  afternoon  at  four,  and  in  the  evening  at  eight, 
until  Sunday.  Being  just  the  time  of  the  rainy  season,  sometimes 
we  were  hindered  by  the  torrents  of  rain.  Sunday  night  was  one 
of  those  wet  nights,  but  the  people  came  out;  there  were  twenty- 
six  in  all  who  professed  conversion  during  this  week  of  revival 
services.  Several  native  boys,  who  were  servants  in  the  families, 
were  converted;  these,  to  me,  were  the  most  interesting  cases.  Poor 
things,  how  my  heart  went  out  toward  them !  No  one  thinks  much 
about  them,  or  pays  much  attention  to  them.  But  it  is  wonderful 
when  they  begin  to  pray,  to  see  how  they  will  stick  to  it;  and  in 
their  darkness,  feeling  after  God,  if  happily  they  may  find  him. 

Sunday  evening  I  spoke  to  the  children  at  the  Sabbath  School, 
on  the  subject  of  temperance,  with  good  effect,  I  trust.  At  night, 
Brother  Richards  preached  and  I  gave  an  exhortation,  and  the 
Lord  greatly  helped  lis.  On  Thursday  night  I  spoke  on  prayer. 
On  Sunday  I  spoke  in  the  Presbyterian  Church.  We  had  a  good 
congregation,  and  the  Lord  helped  me  to  talk  to  the  people,  from 
the  fifteenth  chapter  of  John:     "  The  branch  and  the  vine." 

Then  I  go  to  Virginia,  and  stop  with  Mrs.  Fuller.  I  go  to  the 
Love  Feast  on  Sunday  morning.  It  was  very  wet  and  rainy,  but 
we  had  a  good  meeting  all  day.  What  we  need  most  is  more  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  power.  I  had  great  liberty  in  speaking  in  the  after- 
noon to  a  crowded  house,  from  Romans  12. 

On  Monday,  Mrs.  Fuller  and  I  go  to  Clay- Ashland  in  the  canoe, 
and  make  some  calls.  We  go  to  see  a  poor,  sick,  widow  woman, 
and  give  her  a  word  of  cheer,  with  prayer  and  song.  Then  to  see 
Brother  Capehart,  and  then  home,  to  my  dear  Aunt  Martha  and 
Uncle  Henry  Ricks'.  It  is  so  nice  to  get  back;  and  I  finish  a  long 
letter  to  my  friend,  Mrs.  McDonald,  Maiden,  Mass. 


Amanda  Smith.  ^1 

Bassa,  Lower  Buchanan,  W.  C.  A.,  Feb.  8,  1883.  Mr.  Johnson 
asks  me  about  a  Mr.  Declaybrook,  who  was  here  about  two  years 
ago,  and  said  he  came  to  raise  funds  for  a  girls'  school.  He 
wanted  to  see  what  the  people  were  willing  to  do,  and  then  he  was 
to  go  back  home  and  report,  and  they  were  to  send  the  teachers 

out  at  once. 

Mr.  Crusaw,  who  was  quite  able,  put  down  his  name  tor  a 
thousand    dollars,    Mr.    Johnson   for  a  large  amount,  and  many 

others. 

He  went  all  through  the  county  at  Clay- Ashland  and  Arthing- 
ton,  and  there  were  many  who  gave  the  money  who  were  afraid 
they  might  not  have  it  when  he  came  again.  He  represented 
himself  to  be  a  pastor  of  a  Baptist  Church  somewherein  America. 

That  is  the  way  our  people  are  humbugged.  Good  schools 
are  so  much  needed,  and  these  deceptions  hinder  greatly. 

I  asked  the  Lord  to  give  me  a  word  about  Cape  Mount.  1 
opened  at  the  fifth  chapter  of  Luke,  and  my  eye  rested  on  the  last 
line  of  the  tenth  verse;  also  the  tenth  verse  of  the  fourth  chapter: 
"Fear  not;  from  henceforth  thou  shalt  catch  men."  And,  "He 
shall  give  His  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee." 

My  third  Sabbath  in  Lower  Buchanan,  Bassa.  Preaching  in 
the  morning  by  Rev.  Mr.  Briant.  Sabbath  School.  Mr.  Briant 
addresses  the  children.  He  spoke  fifteen  minutes,  but  said  noth- 
ing!    At  half  past  seven  I  take  the  service  — a  Bible  reading. 

On  Monday  evening  T  began  a  series  of  services.  I  spoke  on 
Monday  evening,  and  gave  a  Bible  reading  consecration;  a  few 
people  present,  but  the  Lord  helped  me  to  speak  for  Him;  so  we 
went  on,  and  the  interest  increased  each  night.  Wednesday  night 
and  Thursday  night  a  number  came  forward  to  the  altar  seeking 
sanctification.  Friday  evening  we  had  a  Gospel  Temperance 
meeting.  Four  signed  the  pledge,  while  there  were  two  seekers 
at  the  altar  for  salvation. 

My  last  Sabbath.  I  spoke  from  John  17.  The  Lord  helped 
me.     The  balance  of  the  day  I  was  ill.     Lord,  make  me  strong. 

Upper  Buchanan,  Feb.  23,  1883.  I  leave  Lower  Buchanan  to- 
day for  Upper  Buchanan,  Stop  at  Mrs.  Horris'.  A  pleasant  walk 
late  in  the  evening.  This  is  a  beautiful  place.  I  have  a  nice 
room  fronting  the  sea,  with  a  fine  view.  And  this  is  Africa,  and 
I  am  here!    Praise  God  for  His  goodness  and  mercy  to  me. 

I  expect,   God  willing,  to  walk  to  Congotown  to-morrow  to 


342  Autobiography  op 

preach.  God  bless  the  dear  people;  and  sanctify  the  message  God 
may  give  me  for  them.  The  people  are  very  kind,  but  the  spirit- 
ual indifference  among  the  people  at  Lower  Buchanan  is  sad.  Oh, 
God,  awaken  them!     Awaken  them! 

On  Tuesday  T  visited  Mrs.  T.'s  school.  There  were  about 
twelve  or  fifteen  pupils  present.     Oh,  the  lack  of  life! 

There  is  great  need  of  good  books.  In  this  the  government  is 
very  slack;  and  until  we  do  our  whole  duty  in  this,  our  country  is 
doomed.  Education  is  our  country's  great  need.  There  is  so  little 
attention  paid  to  the  education  of  girls;  not  a  single  high  school  for 
girls  in  the  whole  republic  of  Liberia.  It  is  a  great  shame  and  a 
disgrace  to  the  government. 

Upper  Buchanan.  I  am  stopping  with  Mrs.  Rebecca  Horris. 
She  has  a  nice,  large  house,  which  has  been  a  first-class  one;  but 
it  has  gone  down  greatly. 

Yesterday  morning,  Sabbath,  I  went  to  Brother  Thomas* 
charge,  a  Congo  village,  to  Church.  Had  a  pleasant  walk.  Rode 
part  of  my  way  in  the  hammock.  Spoke  in  the  morning  from 
Luke:     "Have  faith  in  God."     The  Lord  helped  me. 

In  the  afternoon  I  talked  in  the  Sabbath  School,  and  got  fifteen 
signers  to  the  Gospel  Temperance  pledge.  The  Superintendent  of 
the  Sabbath  School  and  the  local  preachers  and  class  leaders 
would  not  sign  the  pledge.  Oh,  what  hindrances  they  are  in  the 
work.     Lord,  save  them,  or  move  them  out  of  the  way. 

Had  a  poor  night's  rest,  but  feel  better  this  morning,  thank 
God.  Sister  Thomas  gets  an  early  breakfast,  and  I  start  home  to 
Upper  Buchanan.  Brother  Thomas  walks  with  me.  Sister  Toliver 
and  Sister  Marshal  call,  and  we  have  a  pleasant  chat.  The  Lord 
is  making  a  way  for  His  people.  Oh,  Lord,  give  us  the  whole  city! 
Send  on  the  people  the  awakening  spirit,  the  deep,  awakening 
spirit  of  the  Holy  Ghost!    Send  it.  Lord!     Amen.     Amen. 

Edina,  Grand  Bassa,  West  Africa.  On  the  12th  of  April,  1883, 
in  the  evening  I  spoke  in  the  Methodist  Church,  on  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit.     I  had  been  much  in  prayer  all  day. 

My  heart  was  greatly  burdened  for  a  precious  soul,  a  Thomas 
Anderson.  He  was  a  young  lawyer  of  great  promise,  but  strong 
drink  had  been  his  ruin;  so  that  his  brightest  prospects  in  life  had 
been  dimmed.  But  when  he  heard  of  Gospel  Temperance  he  was 
glad,  and  the  first  week  I  held  Bible  readings  he  came  and  seemed  to 
be  much  interested.     He  came  also  to  the  night  services.     The 


Amanda  Smith.  343 

Spirit  of  ihe  Lord  got  hold  of  him,  and  he  jielded  himself  fully  to 
God,  and  on  the  morning  of  April  15th  he  was  clearly  baptized  by 
the  Spirit.  He  felt  the  Spirit  of  God  bearing  witness  with  his 
spirit  that  he  was  fully  accepted  of  God. 

It  was  the  Friday  appointed  by  the  President  as  a  Thanksgiv- 
ing Day;  so  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  had  prayer  meeting, 
and  the  power  of  the  Lord  was  present  to  heal  backsliders  and 
sanctify  believers  Anderson  had  signed  the  total  abstinence 
pledge,  and  when  the  society  was  organized  he  was  made  vice- 
president;  but  he  was  not  permitted  to  serve  very  long. 

With  honor  he  delivered  his  first  address,  on  April  25th,  at  the 
Baptist  Church.  He  began,  after  addressing  the  congregation,  by 
quoting  the  verse  of  an  old  familiar  hymn: 

"  I  once  was  lost,  but  now  am  found 
Was  blind,  but  now  I  see." 

All  felt  the  force  of  his  r.^marks,  for  they  knew  full  well  what 
they  meant.  Theaddress  was  powerful;  broad  and  comprehensive; 
he  handled  it  as  a  master  from  two  standpoints,  experience  and 
observation. 

His  wife,  who  had  shared  all  the  hardships  of  a  drunkard's 
wife,  but  never  left  him,  signed  the  pledge  with  him.  And  though 
she  was  a  professing  Christian,  yet  being  oppressed,  and  so  often  in 
sorrow,  she  had  grown  weary  and  cold  in  her  spiritual  life;  but  she 
gave  herself  anew  to  God. 

In  a  few  days  after  this  she  was  taken  very  ill;  and,  after  suf- 
fering for  ten  days,  she  passed  away  to  her  final  rest,  on  the  36th, 
and  was  buried  with  the  honors  of  the  newly  organized  Band  of 
Hope  Gospel  Temperance  Society,  from  the  Baptist  Church,  on 
Friday,  the  37th. 

This  was  a  great  shock  to  poor  Anderson.  He,  himself,  had 
not  been  well  for  weeks.  But  he  was  the  teacher  of  the  school 
there,  and  so  kept  about.  He  was  taken  to  his  bed  about  the  first 
of  May.  After  his  poor  wife  was  taken  he  seemed  to  break  right 
down.  They  had  no  children,  fortunately.  I  say  fortunately,  for 
of  all  the  sad  things  that  can  happen,  the  worst  is  for  a  child  to  be 
left  with  the  heritage  of  a  drunken  father. 

Strong  drink  does  not  only  destroy  the  soul  and  body  of  men, 
but  robs  them  of  every  comfort  of  life.  And  now  this  was  his  por- 
tion; a-nd  those  who  were  his  friends  in  prosperity,  were  not  to  be 


344  Autobiography  op 

found  in  time  of  his  great  need.  Oh,  how  he  suffered  from  want, 
and  neglect.  I  did  all  a  stranger  could  do,  for  I  had  only  known 
him  and  his  wife  for  a  short  time.  But  I  think  I  never  saw  such 
heartlessness  in  a  Christian  community  in  my  life.  My  home  was 
in  the  family  of  Mrs.  G.  Williams,  almost  opposite  where  Mr.  An- 
derson lived.     So  I  would  run  in  and  see  him. 

On  May  third  I  went  in  the  morning.  He  was  all  alone.  Mrs. 
Williams  sent  him  some  breakfast  by  me.  At  night  a  little  native 
boy  was  left  to  look  after  him,  and  that  was  all  that  stayed  with 
him  at  night.  Late  in  the  afternoon  he  had  a  chill.  He  wrapped 
himself  up  in  a  blanket,  as  best  he  could,  and  prayed  and  asked 
God  to  show  him  clearly  that  he  was  fully  His,  and  help  him  to 
give  himself  unreservedly  to  Him.  He  had  longed  to  die  and  go 
to  His  home  in  Heaven,  as  his  wife  had. gone,  he  did  not  want  to 
stay;  but  for  fear  he  might  have  too  much  of  his  own  will  in  the 
matter,  he  asked  the  Lord  to  help  him  resign  himself  completely 
to  Him.  After  he  had  prayed,  he  had  turned  over,  and  was  med- 
itating, and  this  hymn  came  into  his  mind: 

"On  Jordan's  stormy  banks  I  stand, 

And  cast  a  wishful  eye 
To  Canaan's  fair  and  happy  land. 

Where  my  possessions  lie." 

He  said  as  he  went  on,  the  Lord  Jesus  began  to  manifest  Him- 
self to  him,  and  fill  his  soul.  Wave  after  wave  went  over  him. 
And  when  he  got  to  the  verse: 

"Sweet  fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood, 
Stand  dressed  in  living  green; 
So,  to  the  Jews,  old  Canaan  stood, 
While  Jordan  rolled  between," 
the  Holy  Ghost  came  to  him  in  such  power  that  he  cried  out  so 
lOud  that  the  people  in  the  street  heard  him  and  went  in.     I  went 
in,  and  said  to  him,  "Anderson,  what's  the  matter?  " 

"Oh,  nothing's  the  matter.     My  Jesus  has  just  passed  by,  and 
has  left  such  a  blessing.     Oh,  such  a  blessing!" 
"  Do  you  want  anything?  " 

"Oh,  no,"  he  said.  "Sister  Smith,  I  don't  want  anything. 
Jesus  is  here.     O,  glory  to  His  name." 

"Amen.  Praise  the  Lord;"  I  said,  and  left  him,  rejoicing  in 
ihe  very  joy  of  Heaven. 


Amanda  Smith.  345 

I  went  to  see  him  every  day.  He  was  always  calm,  and  clieer- 
ful,  and  trustful.  T  gave  him  Wood's  book,  "  Purity  and  Matur- 
ity "  He  read  it  through  twice.  His  heart  drank  it  all  in.  I  be 
lieve  the  baptism  that  the  Lord  gave  him  was  the  full  sanctifying 
baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  ^  ^    .  .u 

On  Sabbath  morning,  May  6th,  Brother  Rush  preached  at  the 
Methodist  Church.  It  was  Communion  Sunday.  At  the  close  o 
the  service  we  took  the  communion  over  to  Brother  Anderson.  1 
am  -lad  to  say  we  were  able  to  celebrate  this  communion  with 
unfermented  wine.  It  was  a  time  of  great  blessing;  his  first  and 
last  communion  on  earth.  But,  oh,  how  soon  he  renewed  it  with 
Him  in  the  Kingdom.  .      t,     ,  u      i 

Tuesday,  May  15th.  I  left  Edina  this  morning  for  Beulah.  I 
shall  always  regret  it:  for  I  think,  just  then,  I  got  out  of  the  Lord's 
leading,  and  went  myself,  rather  than  wait  for  pure  light  from 
God.     Mav  God  forgive  me. 

Miss  Scott,  the  white  Episcopal  missionary,  had  been  down  to 
Isdina,  and  had  given  me  a  very  pressing  invitation  to  come  to 
Beulah  at  this  time.  But,  oh,  didn't  I  see  my  mistake  afterwards? 
I  thought  it  was  all  real.  But,  oh,  how  many  things  one  has  to 
find  out  by  personal  experience  that  they  never  could  find  out 

otherwise.  . 

On  Saturday,  the  13th,  a  Mr.  Lloyd  came  down  the  river,  went 
to  see  Mr.  Anderson,  and  told  him  he  could  cure  his  rheumatism; 
and  though  he  was  in  so  weak  a  condition,  he  had  no  friend  to  say, 
-  You  had  better  not  go,"  and  he  went;  it  was  in  the  rainy  season, 
and   being  uncomfortable  and  poorly  clad,  he  got  very   wet,  and 
cold  struck  in;  and,   instead  of  Mr.  Lloyd's  taking  him  into  his 
house,  and  putting  him  in  a  comfortable  bed,   he  was  put  in  a 
hammock,  and  swung  in  an  open  kitchen,  until  two  o'clock  Mon- 
day  morning,  when  they  took  him  into  the  house,  and  at  seven 
o'clock,  when  Mr.  Lloyd  went  to  look  at  him,  he  found  him  dead! 
They  said  that  all  day  Sunday  they  found  him  very  happy, 
and  that  he  spoke  much  of  going  home  to  God.     And  now  the 
time  had  come,  and  the  hard  struggle  of  life  was  over.     Thoma 
Anderson  was  not.     For  God  had  taken  him. 
"Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus, 
Safe  on  His  gentle  breast; 
There  by  His  love  o'ershaded, 
Sweetly  his  soul  finds  rest." 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

FORTSVILLE  —  TEMPERANCE  MEETINGS  —  EVIL  CUSTOMS  —  TB  OMAS 
BROWN  — BALAAM  —  JOTTINGS  FROM  THE  JUNK  RIVER  — 
BROTHER  HARRIS   IS   SANCTIFIED. 

Hartford,  Afri3a,  July  1st,  1883.  I  have  spent  a  pleasant  time 
at  Mr.  Coy  Brown's.  Have  gone  on  with  two  weeks'  meetings. 
The  Lord  has  given  some  blessing.  Three  have  professed  to  find 
peace  in  believing  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Thsre  are  some  five 
or  six  others  seel<ing,  but,  oh,  there  is  such  a  lack  of  fa'th  on  tho 
part  of  the  church.  Zion  travails,  and  comes  to  the  birth,  but, 
has  not  power  to  bring  forth.  Lord,  send  us  down  the  power  they 
had  at  Pentecost. 

One  civilized  native,  a  young  man  who  has  been  converted, 
was  baptized  on  Sunday,  the  5th.  God  bless  Isaac  Cassie,  and 
make  him  a  burning  and  shining  light.  And  may  his  father  and 
mother,  who  are  still  in  heathen  darkness,  soon  be  brought  to  God, 
and  saved  by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ. 

I  went  from  Hartford  to  Fortsville.  I  stopped  with  a  Mr. 
Wiley  Fort.  After  a  little  rest,  I  began  some  meetings;  Bible  read- 
ings, first,  at  the  Methodist  Church. 

It  being  the  rainy  season,  the  people  didn't  come  out  very  well; 
and  then  I  arranged  to  have  them  at  Mr.  Fort's  house  in  the  after- 
noon, and  go  to  the  church  in  the  evening,  when  the  rain  didn't 
pour  too  severely. 

The  meetings  held  were  very  interesting,  and  the  Lord  was 
with  us.  There  has  been  some  interest  on  the  subject  of  temper- 
ance, and  a  number  have  signed  the  pledge.  We  hope  to  organize 
a  society  in  this  settlement  on  Wednesday  night,  God  willing. 
May  He  give  us  His  presence,  and  enlighten  the  minds  of  the 
people,  for  we  are  very  dark  on  this  subject.  And  the  merchants 
are  flooding  the  land  with  this  accursed  fire,  and  men  and  women 
are  being  devoured  by  it. 

(346) 


Amanda  Smith.  347 

One  merchant,  a  foreigner,  a  Mr.  Attier,  I  am  told,  is  ordering 
a  hundred -thousand  cases  of  gin,  so  as  to  escape  the  law  of  high 
duties,  which  goes  into  effect  in  September.  The  law  goes  in  for 
high  duties  on  the  importation  of  strong  drink.  Then  I  see  how 
many  ministers  there  are  in  the  country  who  stand  aloof  from  the 
work  of  temperance,  and  are  afraid  to  open  their  mouths  against 
this  great  Zerubabel  that  shall  become  a  plain.  May  God  put  a 
hook  in  his  jaw.  Oh,  Lord,  work  quick!  For  Jesus'  sake,  speak! 
Arrest  this  flood  tide,  and  awaken  the  people  to  a  sense  of  their 
duty. 

What  a  dreadful  snare  this  trade  is.  Of  course,  the  doings 
and  customs  are  all  new  to  me;  I  have  never  seen  it  in  this  wise 
before.  Preachers  and  laymen  all  think  there  is  nothing  they  can  do 
but  trade.  Some  of  the  men  go  off  in  the  country  for  fifty  or  sixty 
or  a  hundred  miles;  there  they  stay  for  years;  two,  three,  five  and 
eight,  right  along.  Young  men,  and  married  men;  they  will  leave 
their  wives  and  children.  Some  start  towns,  and  buy  native 
women,  and  have  large  families;  this  is  not  an  uncommon  occur- 


rence! 


A  fine  looking  young  man,  who  owns  his  own  house,  and  has 
a  nice  wife  and  one  child,  has  left  everything  and  been  away  in 
the  country  two  years.  His  wife  stayed  at  the  place  as  long  as  she 
could;  but  he  sent  her  nothing  to  live  on,  so  her  parents  .had  to 
take  her  home.  He  has  several  wives  in  the  country,  and,  of 
course,  he  cannot  support  all. 

I  am  stopping  with  a  lady  now,  whose  brother,  a  young  man, 
is  in  the  country,  and  has  been  there  over  a  year.  Here  is  where 
our  loss  is  in  the  perpetuation  of  our  church.  If  they  would  try 
to  teach  and  instruct  the  heathen,  or  teach  school,  or  do  some- 
thing to  elevate,  and  civilize,  and  Christianize  the  poor  natives, 
then  it  would  be  well.  But  they  at  once  fall  into  all  the  customs 
and  habits,  and  turn  from  Christianity  easier  than  they  turn  the 
heathen  from  idolatry. 

Oh,  what  a  blight  is  on  our  whole  country  because  of  this  sin. 
We  have  degraded  ourselves  in  the  eyes  of  the  heathen.  And 
now  the  blind  lead  the  blind. 

On  Saturday  a  poor  woman  came  to  me  in  great  trouble.  Her 
husband  had  been  away  in  the  country  for  six  months.  He  came 
home  and  brought  several  boys  with  him.  After  several  days  had 
passed  he  seemed  very  unkind  and  quarrelsome.     Nothing  was 


348  AUTOBIOGKAI'HY    C  rf 

right.  She  could  do  nothing  to  please  him.  So  he  ^ot  drunk  and 
beat  her  severely,  and  chased  her  from  the  house  with  a  gun. 

The  secret  was,  he  had  become  infatuated  with  a  country 
wife,  and  his  own  home  and  wife  had  lost  all  charms  for  him. 

Greenville,  Sinoe  Co.,  W.  C.  A.,  January  11th,  1884.  Yester- 
day was  a  sad  day.  Two  of  the  oldest  men  in  town  died,  and  one 
was  interred  at  eleven  and  the  other  at  four  p.  m.  Both  were  good 
men;  one  a  member  of  the  Methodist  Church  for  nearly  half  a 
century;  a  class  leader  and  trustee,  and  also  sexton  and  grave  dig- 
ger. His  name  was  Thomas  Brown.  He  emigrated  to  this  country 
forty  years  ago.  His  life  was  not  a  life  of  comfort,  after  the  style 
of  the  world.  He  had  much  to  contend  with;  but  the  joy  of  the 
Lord  was  his  strength,  and  he  triumphed  by  faith,  anyway!  His 
last  sickness,  which  lasted  but  a  month,  was  very  severe,  and  the 
dear  old  man  had  such  few  comforts;  but  not  a  murmur  escaped 
his  lips.     A  few  months  before  he  died,  Brother  Draper  said  to  him: 

"Brother  Brown,  you  are  almost  home." 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  said,  "I  shall  be  home  directly,"  and  he 
thanked  God  for  the  last  little  acts  of  kindness  done;  then  he  closed 
his  eyes  in  peace,  and  went  to  God. 

My  heart  said,  'Oh,  let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and 
let  my  last  end  be  like  theirs." 

He  was  a  member  of  the  Band  of  Hope  Gospel  Temperance 
Society;  one'of  the  first  to  join  when  the  work  began  here  in  Sinoe, 
in  December.  His  membership  was  of  short  duration;  we  had  his 
happy  "  amens  "  to  cheer  us  only  a  short  time.  But  he  stood  true 
to  his  pledge,  and  the  principles  of  total  abstinence,  and  was  a 
strong  advocate. 

The  other  was  Louis  Sherman.  He  also  was  a  member  of  the 
Gospel  Temperance  Society.  Each  leaves  a  large  family  to  mourn 
his  loss. 

A  strange  incident  connected  with  this  was,  while  the  services 
were  going  on  in  the  house  over  the  remains  of  the  men,  the  dogs, 
numbering  six  or  seven  in  the  different  houses,  howled  in  the  most 
distressing  manner;  then  they  would  cease,  and  begin  again,  as 
though  they  were  directed  by  some  one. 

The  Band  of  Hope  formed  a  line  and  led  on,  the  others  fol- 
lowing. At  five  p  M.,  all  was  over,  and  the  families  returned  to 
see  their  husbands  and  fathers  no  more  till  they  all  meet  beyond 
the  river. 


Amanda  Smith.  349 

I  have  been  vibiLiiij^  Frances  Craleii  for  almost  a  week.  She  is 
.u  a  tlyin<^  londilion,  but  is  clinging  ti^ht  to  life,  and  has  not  a  ray 
of  light,  or  joy,  or  thanksgiving,  or  praise.  I  seem  to  be  shut  up. 
I  can't  get  hold  of  Him  in  prayer  or  in  song.  All  is  blank.  God 
save  me  in  the  dying  hour  from  darkness  and  doubt. 

I  have  had  much  to  contend  with  since  I  came  to  Sinoe.  I 
have  never  had  any  such  trials  in  all  my  travels  as  1  have  had 
hero.  I  have  never  met  with  such  deception  and  such  planning 
to  overthrow  the  work  as  I  have  met  here.  But  notwithstanding 
all  this,  there  are  some  good  people  here,  and  God  is  my  friend, 
and  has  given  me  a  few  that  are  real  and  true,  and  I  thank  Him. 
He  has  delivered  me  out  of  the  hands  of  the  most  subtle  enemy  — 
though  always  under  the  garb  of  real  friendship — that  I  have 
ever  met.  Thank  God  for  His  wonderful  and  speedy  deliverance. 
Now,  Lord,  keep  me  delivered,  ever  and  always,  and  help  me  to 
watch  and  pray,  and  on  Thyself  rely.     Amen.  * 

I  have  found  a  good  and  true  friend  in  Mrs.  Sarah  Marshall;  a 
Ui'nial  spirit,  and  a  comfortable  home,  and  plenty  to  eat.  Not 
more  than  others,  I  deserve,  j'et  God  has  given  me  more.  "  I  will 
take  the  cup  of  salvation  and  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

On  the  eve  of  the  tenth  of  January,  at  the  Presbyterian  Church, 
Sammy  Ross,  Jr.,  gave  a  very  interesting  address  on  ''Stand  to  the 
right."  I  see  a  noble  man  coming  out  of  this  temperance  boy. 
God  bless  him. 

Our  next  meeting  is  expected  to  be  held  in  the  Episcopal 
Church.  I  went  to  see  Mrs.  Craten.  She  is  very  weak;  but  she 
has  got  all  her  business  arranged  satisfactorily.  God  helped  me  to 
push  them  up  till  all  is  settled.  Now  the  w^ay  is  clear.  May  God 
L'ome  in  with  a  flood  of  light,  and  show  her  what  she  still  needs  to 
know.     Thank  God  for  this  gain. 

Saturday,  January  12th.  I  am  not  well  this  morning.  I- was 
at  Mrs.  Craten's  late  last  night,  and  she  seemed  very  restless,  and 
as  she  was  disturbed  in  mind,  I  sang  and  prayed;  but  she  had 
no  light  or  access  to  God.  Oh,  how  she  fought  death  to  the  very 
last.     She  never  yielded  one  inch  to  God. 

She  could  not  die  in  the  house  she  lived  in;  she  made  them 
carry  her  to  her  sister's,  and  in  five  minutes  after,  her  breath  was 
snatched  from  her. 

She  lived  in  the  church,  and  lived  in  malice  of  the  bitterest 
kind  with  her  sifster,  her  only  sister,  and  died  the  same,  not  even 


350  AUTOBIOGKArUY   OF 

mentioning  her  name  in  her  will,  and  without  a  house  --ver  her 
head.  She  bade  good  bye  to  all,  and  they  said  she  went  to  Heaven. 
But,  oh,  how  dark! 

January  I3th.  She  was  buried  on  Sabbath  morning.  Rev. 
Hunger  and  Rev.  Kennedy  spoke  over  her.  But,  oh,  that  deceived 
soul,  to  the  last  deceiving,  and  living  deceived!  The  Lord  seemed 
to  shut  me  up  so  that  1  had  no  word  for  her.  "Oh,  mistaken  soul 
that  dreams  of  Heaven  and  makes  its  empty  boast!  " 

I  was  not  out  all  day,  except  to  the  funeral.  1  hope  to  be 
stronger  by  and  by.     God  help  me.     Amen. 

Monday,  January  14th.  Praise  God  for  His  goodness  and 
mercy  to  me.  I  am  feeling  rather  weak,  but  call  to  see  Mrs.  Har- 
ris, and  Mrs.  G.  Craten,  and  Mrs.  Louis.  They  are  all  well.  Then 
I  take  Brother  Kennedy  one  pound,  which  makes  up  the  balance 
of  the  eleven  dollars  I  promised  to  get.  There  were  fifty  dollars 
subscribed.  Some  paid;  I  promised  to  pay  the  eleven  dollars  if 
no  one  else  did.  I  walked  all  day  on  Monday  and  got  six  dollars, 
and  waited  a  week  and  no  one  paid  a  cent;  so  I  paid  the  five  dol- 
lars myself.     In  all,  I  paid  out  of  my  pocket  eight  dollars. 

Selfishness  is  killing  us.  God,  have  mercy.  Paying  the  min- 
ister is  a  thing  hardly  thought  of.  The  church  here  agreed  to 
■  i\  e  the  minister  two  hundred  dollars;  in  a  whole  year  they  gave 
liim  fifty  dollars! 

This  year,  when  he  was  getting  ready  to  go  to  the  Conference, 
he  told  them  if  they  would  give  him  fifty  dollars  he  would  give 
them  the  one  hundred;  and  of  that  fifty  on  last  year's  salary  they 
had  only  given  thirty  dollars,  and  eight  dollars  of  that  I  gave 
myself. 

Sinoe,  January  15th.  Tuesday  I  make  bread,  and  write  a 
ten-page  letter  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Estes.  Oh,  precious  time,  how 
you  fly ! 

Wednesday,  10th.  I  was  very  miserable  and  weak  all  day  yes- 
terday and  to-day,  but  was  better  in  the  afternoon,  so  that  I  went 
out  to  the  temperance  meeting,  held  at  the  Episcopal  Church. 
We  had  a  very  interesting  meeting.  Sammy  Ross  did  nobly.  Mr. 
Munger,  the  pastor,  has  not  signed  the  pledge,  but  we  asked  him 
to  speak,  and  he  gave  us  a  good  talk,  just  to  the  point,  and  said  he 
would  do  all  he  could  for  the  furtherance  of  the  work,  and  also 
offered  to  give  us  an  address  next  Wednesday  night,  I  believe  the 
Lord  will  help  him.     Oh,  Lord,  save  our  land. 


Amanda  Smith.  351 

Sunday,  20th.  I  go  to  early  prayer  meeting;  a  good  many  out. 
Then  I  go  home  and  have  prayers.  At  breakfast,  word  comes  that 
there  is  to  be  preaching  and  quarterly  meeting  at  the  Baptist 
Church,  Brother  Huff's.  I  go.  The  distance  is  about  a  mile  and 
a  half.  The  Lord  gives  me  strength  for  the  day,  and  I  go  to  a 
baptizing.  Hear  two  sermons;  one  by  Brother  Roberts,  at  the 
church,  the  other  at  the  water  side,  or  pond. 

I  did  not  stay  to  the  afternoon  meeting.  Having  a  little  rest, 
1  walked  home.  The  sun  was  very  hot.  I  was  dripping  with  per- 
spiration. I  lay  down  and  took  a  little  rest,  then  went  to  church. 
Brother  Draper  preached.  Text  in  Psalms,  "Keep  back  thy  ser- 
vant from  presumptuous  sins." 

I  asked  the  privilege  of  making  some  remarks,  and  explained 
why  I  was  not  present  the  Sunday  before  (I  was  not  well),  and  re- 
ported the  money  I  had  collected  for  Brother  Kennedy,  eleven  dol- 
lars.    I  paid  in  all  I  had  given.     May  God  bless  him,  and  me. 

Monday,  21st.  Sister  Draper  and  T  go  to  Jamesville  to-day  to 
see  her  niece.  Miss  Brown,  who  is  sick.  We  have  a  pleasant  time. 
Have  a  season  of  prayer,  and  read  and  sing.  Sister  Brown  seems 
to  enjoy  it.  But,  oh,  the  coldness  and  death  chill!  No  life,  no 
power  in  prayer.     Oh,  God,  awake  the  people,  for  Jesus  sake! 

Then  we  called  at  old  lady  Brichandenn's.  This  is  a  dear  old 
saint,  and  is  ripening  for  glory.  After  hearing  her  tell  of  the 
Lord's  dealings  with  her,  which  were  marvelous,  we  sang  a  hymn, 
and  then  knelt  down  and  prayed. 

The  Lord  met  us  there  under  the  trees,  and  blessed  us;  and 
the  benediction  that  old  lady  pronounced  on  me  I  shall  never  for- 
get. May  the  Lord  grant  this,  and  more,  according  to  His  sweet 
will.     Amen. 

Went  to  Sister  Kenney's.  Had  another  song  and  season  of 
prayer.  There  the  Lord  blessed  us  again.  Then  we  returned 
home  about  two  o'clock.  After  a  little  rest  I  went  to  Mrs.  Harris' 
and  took  dinner,  with  some  others.  Had  a  pleasant  time.  Praise 
the  Lord  for  the  blessings  He  giveth. 

Tuesday,  January  22nd.  I  am  well  this  morning.  Praise  God. 
And  I  am  asking  for  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Oh,  how  I 
need  it.  My  soul  cries  out  for  the  living  God.  God,  help  me.  I 
have  a  good  deal  of  writing  to  do,  and  a  good  many  other  things. 
But  He  has  said,  "My  grace  is  sufficient  for  you."  Mrs.  Marshall 
and  I  have  a  nice  call  from  Brother  and  Sister  Munger. 


352  Autobiography  of 

Wednesday,  January  23,  1884.  This  is  my  birthday.  Oh, 
how  the  Lord  has  led  me,  and  loved  me,  and  watched  over  me  for 
forty-seven  long  years. 

"All  the  way  my  Lord  has  led  me, 
Cheered  each  winding  path  I  tread 
Gave  me  grace  for  every  trial. 
Fed  me  with  the  living  bread.*' 

I  was  born  on  the  23rd  of  January,  1837.  My  mother  died 
when  I  was  thirteen  years  old. 

On  mj'  first  birthday  in  Africa  I  was  at  Greenville.  In  the  prayer 
meeting  that  night  I  gave  the  history  of  my  conversion  and  sancti- 
fication.  The  people  seemed  much  interested.  Then  I  called  all 
to  the  altar  for  consecration.  We  had  some  prayers,  then  I  closed 
the  meeting.  The  hymn  sung  while  on  our  knees  was  the  old 
familiar  hymn,  "Forever  here  my  rest  shall  be."  Oh,  for  the 
baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost! 

I  spent  the  day  at  Greenville.  Gave  an  address,  and  held  a 
prayer  meeting.  About  thirty  in  number  came  out.  The  dark- 
ness of  mind  here  among  the  people  is  very  great.  God,  send  help, 
for  Jesus'  sake.  Through  ignorance  there  is  much  opposition  to 
the  temperance  work. 

Lexington,  Monday,  February  4th.  Mrs.  Birch,  Sister  Smith 
and  I  make  some  calls,  and  sing  and  pray  at  each  house,  in  turns. 
Oh,  Lord,  revive  Thy  work.  My  first  Gospel  Temperance  meeting 
held  in  the  Baptist  Church.  The  Lord  helped  me  to  speak  from 
Mai.,  third  chapter. 

Tuesday,  5th.  Second  Gospel  Temperance  meeting.  Surely 
the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  with  us,  and  He  is  blessing  us  greatly. 
Not  so  much  liberty  in  speaking,  but  God  is  with  us,  and  we  are 
expecting  great  things.  Oh,  Lord,  for  Jesus'  sake,  answer  prayer, 
and  send  us  the  Holy  Ghost  to  quicken  and  revive  us. 

Wednesday,  6th.  We  have  a  good  meeting  to-night.  The 
pledge  is  offered  and  a  number  sign. 

Thursday,  7th.  I  go  to  Greenville  this  morning  to  be  at  the 
installation  of  officers  in  the  Order  of  Good  Samaritans.  Call  at 
Brother  Day's,  (a  Congo),  who  is  an  earnest  Christian  man,  and  a 
deacon  in  the  Baptist  Church.  God  bless  him.  He  knows  the 
Lord.  We  have  a  good  time  singing  and  talking  over  His  Word. 
Called  at  Sister  Wink's,  then  at  Sister  Mine's.     The  sun  is  very 


Amanda  Smith.  353 

hot,  but  the  Lord  has  given  me  strength.  Two  o'clock.  Mrs. 
Marshall's,  Greenville.  My  room  is  all' arranged  so  very  prettily; 
everything  is  so  nice.  God  bless  Mrs.  Marshall.  I  go  to  church, 
sing  and  pray. 

Sunday,  10th.  Lexington.  T  preached  at  the  Methodist 
Church  this  morning,  from  Romans  12: 1.  The  Lord  helped  me, 
though  I  felt  so  bad  when  I  first  began.  In  the  afternoon  I  ad- 
dressed the  Sabbath  School  at  the  Baptist  Church.  The  pastor 
and  the  superintendent  were  present. 

Monday,  11th.  Have  a  good  Bible  reading  this  afternoon,  on 
the  ability  of  Jesus,  and  a  grand  temperance  meeting  to-night. 

Tuesday,  13th.  Regular  stated  temperance  prayer  meeting. 
I  make  several  calls,  and  take  the  meeting  this  evening.  The 
Lord  blesses  us,  and  a  number  sign  the  total  abstinence  pledge. 

Wednesday,  13th.  We  had  a  Bible  reading  to-day.  The  Lord 
•^as  with  us.    At  night  we  organized  our  Gospel  Temperance  Band. 

Thursday,  14th.  I  do  not  get  up  till  seven;  so,  much  of  the 
fine  morning  is  gone.  But,  Oh,  I  felt  so  weary.  Heremembereth 
I  am  but  dust. 

Greenville,  Sinoe,  Sunday,  February  17,  1884.  I  was  at  Lex- 
ington to  quarterly  meeting.  We  had  a  good  meeting.  I  came 
home  on  Monday  to  Mrs.  Marshall's,  Greenville. 

While  at  Lexington  I  went  to  see  an  old  man,  a  Mr.  Smith,  a 
local  preacher,  and  deacon  of  the  Baptist  Church.  He  was  about 
sixty-five  or  seventy  years  old.  He  was  much  afflicted  and  could 
not  walk.  But  I  was  told  that  this  man  was  a  very  spiritually 
minded  man,  a  man  that  people  generally  went  to  for  spiritual 
advice.  He  claimed  that  the  Lord  revealed  things  to  him  in 
dreams,  and  people  all  about  believed  in  him. 

I  was  anxious  to  see  him,  and  as  I  always  went  to  see  the  sick 
and  the  poor,  no  matter  when,  or  how  weary  and  tired  out  I  was, 
1  went  to  see  this  old  man;  and  I  thought  I  was  going  to  be  re- 
freshed by  his  counsel,  as  he  had  been  in  the  way  so  long.  He 
talked  about  religion,  but  really,  to  me,  he  did  not  seem  like  a 
man  who  possessed  much  of  what  he  talked  about.  How  dark 
and  blank  he  seemed. 

I  talked  and  prayed  with  him.  and  asked  him  if  there  was  any 
text  of  Scripture  he  wjuld  like  to  have  me  read  for  him.  He 
seemed  not  to  think  of  the  Bible  at  all. 

"Is  there  no  Word  of  God  that  has  been  ble.ssed  to  you,"  I 
said,  "since  you  have  been  afflicted?** 


354  AutobiogUaphy  of 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  he,  "if  you  can  find  about  Balaam." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  I  Icnow  what  you  mean;  but  what  in  that  fias 
been  a  blessing  to  you?  I  know  Balaam  was  a  very  wicked  Kuiii. 
and  I  cannot  see  what  help  came  from  it  to  3'ou." 

I  was  told  that  he  had  a  great  deal  of  prejudice  against  women 
preaching. 

Just  at  this  point  he  rallied,  as  though  he  was  going  to  teach 
me  something  wonderful. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "  I  will  tell  you.  Balaam  had  a  cart,  and  the 
cart  got  stuck  in  the  mud;  and  he  had  an  associate,  so  he  called 
his  associate  and  asked  him  to  help  him  pull  his  cart  out  of  the 
mud.  'But,'  he  said,  'how  are  we  going  to  get  it  out?' 
'Well,*  said  he,  'if  we  can't  get  it  out  any  other  way,  we  will 
cuss  itout!'  " 

"Well,"  I  said,  "of  all  the  Bible  reading  I  have  ever  heard  or 
done,  I  have  never  read  any  such  thing  in  the  Bible  in  all  my  life." 

"Oh,  no,"  he  said,  "it's  not  in  the  Bible;  but  this  is  what 
the  Spirit  revealed  to  me." 

"What  did  the  Spirit  purpose  to  teach  you  by  sucli  a  reve- 
lation'^" 

"Well,"  he  said,  "  the  cart  in  the  mud  was  his  wicked  heart, 
and  the  associate  was  the  wicked  trying  to  lead  the  innocent 
astray." 

And  after  fifty  3'ears  of  being  a  Christian,  and  preacher  and 
teacher,  this  was  all  he  had  to  comfort  him  in  his  attiiction. 
What  a  blind  man!  And  the  people  at  Lexington  letting  him  go 
on  into  an  unknown  eternity.  Oh,  that  God  would  awaken  him 
in  time. 

I  have  not  seen  so  much  ignorance  as  there  seems  to  be  among 
many  of  the  people  of  this  county.  How  I  wish  the  Lord  would 
Send  some  good  missionary  to  be  a  blessing  to  the  people, 

Lexington,  Sinoe  Co.,  Africa,  Sunday,  Feb.  24,  1884.  I  had 
spent  some  months  in  the  home  of  Brother  Calvin  Birch,  whose 
faithful  kindness,  and  that  of  his  wife,  I  shall  never  forget.  Mrs. 
F.  Smith,  another  good  sister  of  the  Methodist  Church,  had  invited 
me  to  spend  a  week  at  her  home. 

I  went  on  Saturday,  and  on  Sunday  I  was  taken  very  iii  with 
bilious  colic,  and  came  very  near  dying.  Alter  suflering  terrible 
cramp  and  purging  for  about  three  hours,  the  Lord,  in  mercy, 
gave  me  ease.     But  1  was  not  able  to  go  out  all  day.     After  that  I 


Amanda  Smith.  355 

had  chills  and  fever  every  other  day  for  a  while,  when  I  began  to 
miss  them,  and  soon  began  to  gain  strength. 

On  Tuesday,  the  26th,  I  went  to  Louisiana.  We  had  a  fine 
temperance  meeting;  twenty-one  signed  the  pledge.  On  Wednes- 
day, the  27th,  we  had  a  fine  meeting  at  Thankful  Baptist  Church, 
Lexington.     On  Thursday,  28th,  I  went  down  to  Greenville. 

Sunday  morning,  March  3.  Went  out  to  early  prayer  meet- 
ing; had  a  good  time.  Also  at  the  Congregational  Church  there 
was  a  good  prayer  meeting.  Poor  Mr.  Harris  got  a  great  blessing. 
May  the  Lord  in  mercy  keep  him.  Rev.  Mr.  Frazier  preached  in 
the  Congregational  Church,  and  administered  the  Lord's  Supper. 
The  sermon  was  well  read,  but  very  void  of  spiritual  power  for 
such  an  occasion. 

March  6.  In  the  afternoon  T  went  to  Mrs.  Morgan's  to  meet 
the  lodge  of  Good  Templars,  and  Daughters  of  Temperance.  It  is 
perfectly  wonderful  how  all  these  old  societies,  which  had  once 
flourished,  but  had  well  nigh  died  out,  began  to  be  revived  all  over 
the  republic  as  soon  as  I  had  begun  the  Gospel  Temperance  work 
among  the  young  people  and  children,  so  that  when  I  asked  for 
co-operation  and  help,  I  was  told  that  they  belonged  to  this  society, 
and  to  the  other  society,  it  had  gone  down,  but  that  they  were 
going  to  commence  again.  So  to  show  them  that  I  was  with  them 
in  anything  that  was  for  the  well-being  of  the  people,  I  joined 
them,  and  helped  what  I  could.  But,  Oh,  how  hollow,  and  empty, 
and  unreal. 

After  all  it  is  not  the  tinsel  and  show,  but  it  is  the  real  heart 
work  for  God  and  souls  that  Africa  needs,  especially. 

Friday,  the  7th,  I  went  to  Mrs.  Bonner's  and  then  ofiF  to  the 
Baptist  Association  held  at  the  Court  House. 

Sunday,  March  16th,  I  went  to  Louisiana,  preached  in  the 
morning.  When  we  started  home,  and  got  to  the  river,  the  tide 
had  gone  out,  and  we  could  not  get  our  canoe  up;  so  we  had  to  be 
carried  through  the  mud  to  it.  If  some  one  had  been  near  by 
where  they  could  have  taken  our  pictures  I  know  they  would  have 
sold  well.  Imagine  our  position,  on  two  Kroo  boys'  shoulders, 
while  we  hung  down  all  about  in  spots! 

Well,  we  got  through  the  slime,  anyhow,  and  that  was  quite 
an  item.  Brother  Bonner  went  ahead,  on  the  boys'  back.  I  was 
obliged  to  do  the  best  I  could  to  keep  from  laughing,  for  fear  they 
would  let  us  go  in  the  mud  together;  and  that  was  my  heaviest 
task.     But  my  time  came  after  awhile. 


356  AUTOBIOGKAPHY   OF 

We  got  back  in  time  to  go  to  the  Baptist  meeting.  Brother 
Rocker,  a  licentiate  in  the  Baptist  Church,  preached.  He  was  a 
good  preacher,  but,  Oh,  how  he  needed  the  Holy  Ghost.  Poor 
man,  how  often  I  have  prayed  for  him.  I  called  to  see  Mr.  Rice. 
The  poor  man  is  dying.  I  spoke  to  him  of  Jesus,  who  is  the  only 
truth  and  life.  How  sad  that  any  one  should  put  it  off  until  the 
very  last  moment;  it  does  look  so  mean  to  live  on  God's  mercy  all 
through  life  and  health,  and  then  a  few  minutes  before  the  breath 
leaves  you,  when  you  cannot  serve  the  world,  and  yourself,  and  sin, 
any  longer,  possibly,  turn  to  the  Lord.     How  foolish!     God  help  us. 

Before  1  went,  a  temperance  meeting  was  held  in  the  Episco- 
pal Church,  Brother  Hunger.  Had  a  grand,  good  meeting. 
Gospel  Temperance  took  well  there.  The  Lord  seemed  to  be  bless- 
ing the  people  with  a  spirit  and  interest,  that,  if  continued,  would 
be  a  blessing  to  them. 

On  Tuesday  I  started  early  and  walked  to  Lexingljon.  Young 
Jenkins  put  me  across  the  stream  with  his  canoe.  Wednesday  I 
walked  to  Louisiana,  then  out  to  Cherry  Ridge,  held  a  temperance 
meeting  at  the  church,  and  a  number  signed  the  pledge.  We 
organized.  Thursday  T  preached,  from  John,  9th  chapter.  After 
suffering  much  with  my  back  all  day,  I  went  to  Lexington,  and 
then  expected  to  go  to  Farmersville  to  another  meeting. 

Monrovia,  April  22,  1885.  Rev.  James  Deputle  and  myself 
leave  fifteen  minutes  past  eleven  for  Mt.  Olive.  The  distance  is 
about  seventy  miles,  taking  the  shortest  cut. 

We  take  passage  in  a  canoe  at  the  waterside,  and  after  a  slow 
pull  in  the  hot  sun  for  three  hours  we  come  to  Paynesville,  the  first 
stop.  There  we  rest  an  hour  or  more.  No  one  asked  us  to  eat, 
but  the  friends  had  given  me  a  small  lunch  before  I  started,  so  we 
took  a  snack,  and  then  started  on  foot  across  the  Old  Fields,  a  dis- 
tance of  about  five  miles. 

The  sun  was  warm,  and  I  got  very  tired  before  I  got  to  the  end 
of  the  five  miles.  I  was  glad  to  rest,  and  had  a  short  nap  for  ten 
minutes.  We  had  hoped  to  get  through  to  the  creek,  and  so  reach 
Marshall  by  seven  o'clock;  but  the  boys  worked  slowly,  and  the 
tide  fell  before  we  got  off;  so  we  had  to  remain  all  night. 

We  took  refuge  at  the  house  of  a  Mrs.  Clark.  Brother  Deputie 
asked  her  if  she  could  take  us  in  for  the  night:  she  said  it  would 
be  very  inconvenient,  but  as  there  was  no  other  house  within  five 
miles,  we  told  her  we  would  stop  and  make  the  best  of  it. 


Amanda  Smith.  357 

It  was  now  about  seven  o'clock,  and  I  suppose  the  supper  and 
dinner  were  over,  and  not  a  word  was  said  to  us;  I  would  have 
been  so  glad  if  she  had  offered  me  a  roasted  casava,  or  anything. 
So  1  ate  a  few  dry  biscuits  and  drank  a  cup  of  cold  water,  and  was 
very  thankful. 

I  had  a  little  talk  with  Sister  Clark  about  her  condition;  she 
said  she  was  converted  in  America;  she  did  not  know  the  year  or 
month;  she  seemed  dead  clear  through;  I  tri  'd  to  draw  her  out; 
but  sne  seemed  to  stick  fast  on  every  side;  I  sang  and  prayed 
about  Jesus,  and  I  hoped  that  she  would  respond  somewhere;  but 
not  a  word;  so  I  gave  up  and  went  to  bed. 

This  poor  woman  was  there,  pretty  much  alone,  no  church 
near  by,  and  her  nearest  neighbors  five  miles  away,  and  she  in 
darkness  equal  to  that  of  the  heathen  round  about  her,  though 
born  in  a  Christian  land,  and  had  heard  the  Gospel  message.  How 
often  we  find  this. 

I  did  not  change  my  clothes  when  1  went  to  bed;  I  thanked 
God  for  a  cover  over  my  head,  and  a  corner  to  lie  down  in;  though 
I  was  very  wet  with  perspiration,  somehow  I  slept  well.  At  three 
in  the  morning.  Brother  Deputie  sang  out; 

"Sister  Smith,  it  is  time  to  go." 

It  didn't  take  me  long  to  arrange  my  toilet.  After  prayer,  we 
were  soon  off  to  the  waterside.  There  was  no  moon,  and  as  it  had 
been  raining  it  was  quite  dark;  so  with  lantern  in  hand  we 
marched  off.  The  boys  were  a  little  stupid,  but  about  four  o'clock 
we  got  pushed  off;  it  was  dark,  but  having  a  good  lantern  we  got 
out  of  the  creek  all  right;  the  creek  was  long,  and  in  some  places 
very  narrow. 

We  got  to  the  head  of  the  river  just  at  daylight.  The  morn- 
ing was  pleasant;  about  ten  o'clock  the  sun  was  very  hot.  We  got 
to  a  friend's  house,  and  stopped  for  a  rest;  the  sister  gave  us  some 
coffee,  bitter  and  black,  and  not  a  bit  of  bread;  poor  thing,  she 
didn't  have  any.  I  took  a  sip  or  two  of  the  coffee,  and  ate  a  dry 
biscuit. 

While  there  the  Lord  sent  us  a  good  shower  of  rain,  which 
cooled  the  atmosphere;  we  left  there  and  went  to  Grassdale,  and 
spent  an  hour  at  Sister  Brown's.  From  there  we  went  on  to  Mt. 
Olive,  Brother  Deputie's  station  and  home.  We  reached  there 
about  half  past  five  p.  m.,  and  had  a  cordial  reception  from  Bister 
Deputie  and  the  children;  a  comfortable  home,  and  every  part  of 


358  Autobiography  of 

the  house  as  clean  as  a  pm,  and  his  wife  and  children  the  same. 
I  was  thankful  for  a  good  bath,  and  a  good  dinner,  as  I  had  not 
had  much  for  two  days. 

Brother  Deputie  had  been  going  up  and  down  this  river  so 
long  that  he  did  not  think  these  hardships,  but  pleasant;  well,  I  did 
not  think  them  the  worst  that  ever  was,  but  I  did  thank  God  they 
were  no  worse.  One  thing  there  is,  they  have  plenty  of  fine 
oysters. 

I  had  a  good,  quiet  rest  from  Thursday  night  till  Sunday,  be- 
fore I  was  called  upon  to  take  a  service.  Brother  Deputie's  church 
was  a  good  sized  thatch  church,  the  members  mostly  natives, 
but,  being  the  only  church,  it  accommodated  others  as  well.  We 
walked  about  a  half  mile,  and  I  spoke  to  a  good  company  that  had 
gathered.  I  gave  the  Word  from  Hebrews,  12:1-23.  The  Lord 
wonderfully  helped  me.  Brother  Philip  Harris,  native  inter- 
preted, I  was  much  pleased  with  this  brother,  and  thought  if  a 
little  encouragement  were  given  he  would  make  a  faithful  servant 
in  the  church.  I  remained  for  Sabbath  School,  and  spoke  a  word 
of  encouragement  to  the  teachers  and  scholars,  and  sang  a  hymn: 
"Bringing  in  the  sheaves;"  then  I  walked  home,  weary,  as  I  was 
not  feeling  very  well  all  day. 

Monday  I  was  not  well,  but  took  some  medicine,  and  so  got 
better.  On  Thursday  I  went  with  Brother  Deputie  and  made  four 
pastoral  calls.  'We  called  on  a  Mrs.  Johnson,  a  very  interesting 
woman,  who  is  quite  sick,  has  a  houseful  of  children,  and  is  not 
converted.  I  spoke  with  her,  and  urged  on  her  the  necessity  of 
accepting  Christ,  then  and  there.  We  prayed  with  her,  but  she 
seemed  blank.     May  the  Lord  be  merciful  to  her. 

April  29th,  Brother  and  Sister  Deputie  and  I  took  a  nice  canoe 
ride,  of  about  a  mile.  Called  on  Deacon  Kink.  He  was  quite  an 
old  man;  his  wife,  a  very  pleasant,  sensible  woman,  from  Pennsyl- 
vania, U.  S.  Brother  King  was  a  Southerner,  one  of  the  old  type. 
We  spent  a  pleasant  hour  with  them;  had  a  season  of  prayer;  they 
were  delighted.  How  those  poor  souls  off  in  the  desert  enjoy  a 
little  call  like  that.  How  I  do  thank  the  Lord  when  it  is  my  priv- 
ilege to  sing  and  pray  and  cheer  the  wearj-  traveler  along  the  lone- 
some road. 

We  called  at  the  house  of  one  sister  who  was  not  at  home. 
Then  we  went  on  to  Brother  Artists.  This  brother  was  Chief  Mag- 
istrate.    He  had  been  afflicted  for  years;  could  not  walk;  but  sat 


Amanda  Smith.  350 

on  the  floor.  His  right  arm  is  withered;  all  the  fingers  of  his  right 
hand  are  otf,  only  the  stumps  remaining;  his  right  side  is  withered 
all  the  way  down;  he  is  a  great  sufferer,  but  seems  happy.  He 
was  quite  an  intelligent  man;  much  above  the  average  young  man 
in  the  neighborhood  or  country;  his  wife,  also,  was  an  intelligent 
woman,  and  an  industrious  one;  she  kept  school  in  their  house;  I 
heard  the  children  in  spelling  and  multiplication,  and  they  did 
well. 

I  hope  to  leave  to-morrow  for  Marshall,  on  the  Junk  River.  On 
Monday  I  go  to  Paynesville,  and  if  Brother  Pitman  can  arrange  a 
service,  I  will  speak  at  his  church  on  Tuesday  night.  On  Wednes- 
day morning  I  get  off  for  Marshall;  got  there  about  two  p.  m. 
Preached  Friday  night,  Saturday  night,  and  three  times  on  the 
Sabbath,  and  left  on  Monday  at  six-twenty  for  Monrovia. 

Virginia,  Africa,  November  16th,  1884.  This  was  a  glorious 
victory.  I  had  been  holding  a  meeting  here  every  night  for  a 
week.  The  Lord  poured  out  His  Spirit,  and  there  was  a  great 
awakening  among  the  people. 

Old  Brother  Jacob  Harris,  who  was  a  member  of  the  Method- 
ist Church,  and  had  been  for  years,  and  was  much  interested  in  the 
subject  of  holiness,  by  faith  was  enabled  to  see  the  way  clearly, 
and  claim  the  blessing  of  cleansing,  and  receive  the  witness  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  It  was  about  eleven  o'clock,  a.  m.,  when  he  called  to 
see  me,  where  I  was  stopping,  at  Sister  Watson's.  Sister  Watson 
was  a  grand  woman,  and  for  several  years  had  enjoyed  the  great 
salvation,  and  was  a  power  in  the  church  and  neighborhood. 

Brother  Harris  came  in  to  see  me  that  morning,  and,  as  I  was 
trying  to  show  him  the  simplicity  of  faith,  he  said: 

"Yes,  Sister  Smith,  I  see  it,  and  I  have  been  trying  and  pray- 
ing for  this  sanctification  for  ,over  three  years;  and,  somehow,  I 
don't  know  how  to  take  hold.  But  I  have  given  myself  all  up,  and 
I  have  put  myself  in  the  hands  of  God;  a, id  I  am  resolved  to  trust 
Him  as  long  as  I  live;  I  never  mean  to  stop;  I  want  the  blessing  of 
sanctification. " 

The  blessed  Spirit  was  all  this  time  overshadowing  him  till  he 
could  hardly  speak  sometimes  for  the  flood  of  tears  that  rushed  in 
upon  him. 

"Now,  Brother  Harris."  I  said,  "can  you  accept  Christ  as 
your  full  and  complete  Saviour,  now?  He  is  made  unto  you  wis- 
dom,  righteousness,   sanctification  and  redemption:    now,  right 


360  Autobiography  of 

while  you  are  sitting  on  that  chair,  on  this  veranda,  at  this  very 
hour,  before  you  move  from  that  spot,  before  you  eat  another  mor- 
sel, before  you  drinlc  another  drop  of  water;  now,  Christ  is  made 
unto  you  wisdom,  righteousness,  sanctification,  and  redemption, 
and  His  blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin;  will  you  take  Christ  now?" 

Looking  at  me,  he  lifted  his  hand  and  said,  "  Sister  Smith,  1 
am  determined  to  fight  for  this  till  T  die.  I  give  my  life  all  intc 
the  hands  of  God,  now." 

"Brother  Harris,  you  have  been  up  to  the  point  many  times 
before,  and  gone  right  back;  will  you,  do  you,  here  and  now, 
doit?" 

He  was  looking  right  at  me.  I  repeated,  "Do  you  here  and 
now,  take  Christ  as  your  wisdom,  Christ  as  your  righteousness, 
Christ  as  your  sanctification,  Christ  as  your  redemption,  and  be- 
lieve His  blood  does  now  cleanse  you  from  all  sin,  now,  right  now^ 
Not  because  3'ou  feel,  but  because  God  has  said  so,  and,  in  the 
authority  of  His  Word,  do  you  stand  and  declare  to  the  dying 
world,  not  doubting,  the  conditions  all  being  met,  and  trusting  the 
sternal  God,  do  you  declare  that  '  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  His 
son,  cleanseth  you  from  all  sin? '     Now,  do  you  do  it?" 

"Yes,  I  do;"  he  said,  and  as  loud  as  I  could  I  shouted, 
"  Amen." 

The  old  man  buried  his  face  in' his  hands,  and,  weeping,  said, 
"Glory  to  Jesus." 

"Trust  Him,"  I  said,  "and  do  not  doubt.  He  does  save  you 
now." 

"Oh,  praise  the  Lord;"  he  cried,  then  sprang  to  his  feet, 
grabbed  hold  of  Sister  Watson's  hand,  and  then  hold  of  my  hand. 
Brother  Watson  was  in  'the  house;  ihe  went  after  him.  "  Oh,  glory! 
I  am  free,  as  I  never  have  been  before  in  all  my  life.  Oh,  how 
sweet!     Glory!" 

After  about  fifteen  minutes  of  shouting  and  praying,  he  took 
his  hat  and  cane  and  started  for  home.  He  said,  "  Pray  for  me, 
that  T  may  ever  be  kept  on  the  rock." 

I  stepped  into  the  parlor,  and  said,  "  Let's  all  pray  now." 

We  were  all  so  full  of  praise  and  thanksgiving  it  was  a  little 
difficult  to  pray;  but  I  tried  to  pray  as  best  I  could,  then  I  asked 
Sister  Watson  to  pray.  Poor  Brother  Watson  had  been  seeking  the 
blessing  so  long;  may  God  help  him,  and  quickly. 

Brother  Harris  had  beep  "  n:'^Tnber  of  the  Methodist  Church 


Amanda  Smith.  361 

for  thirty  years;  and  he  said  that  Sister  Watson's  testimony  aftej- 
she  first  got  the  blessing  first  stirred  him  up  to  pray;  so  she  has 
been  praying  for  him  and  helping  him  all  she  could  ever  since. 

"  I  knew  this  child,"  he  said,  "  when  she  was  a  little  girl;  and 
she  has  grown  up,  and  been  converted,  and  sanctified,  and  here  I 
have  been  in  the  church  all  these  years,  and  what  have  I  done? 
So  I  started  out  to  pray,  and  glory  be  to  God,  He  has  heard  me. 
Oh,  Sister  Smith,  she  did  help  me  all  she  could,  but  I  could  not 
see  it;  oh,  I  thank  the  Lord  He  sent  you,  and  you  seemed  to 
make  it  so  plain,  the  points  you  went  over  I  could  see,  and  I  thank 
God." 

"  Of  victory  now  o'er  Satan's  power. 
Let  all  the  ransomed  sing; 
And  triumph  in  the  dying  hour 
Through  Christ,  the  Lord,  their  king." 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

CONFERENCE  AT  MONROVIA  —  ENTERTAINING  THE  BISHOP  —  SIERRA 
LEONE  —  GRAND  CANARY  —  A  STRANGE  DREAM  —  CONFERENCE 
AT  BASSA  —  BISHOP  TAYLOR. 

Monrovia,  Jan.  1st,  1885.  The  morning  is  lovely,  and  my  note 
of  praise  is,  "Oh!  Lord,  I  will  praise  Thee,  and  in  the  great  con- 
gregation I  will  tell  of  Thy  wonderful  works.  Thou  hast  brought 
me  through  deep  waters  the  past  year.  I  will  praise  Thee  while 
I  have  being.     Praise  the  Lord!  " 

The  ladies  are  holding  a  bazar  in  the  parlors  of  the  mansion 
of  Mrs.  President  Roberts.  They  don't  hold  their  bazars  and  fairs 
in  the  churches  in  Africa.  That  is  one  good  thing.  I  go  down 
and  spend  an  hour.     Feeling  very  weak  and  bad,  I  go  home. 

Friday,  Jan.  9th,  Praise  the  Lord  for  this  day.  The  President 
vetoes  a  bill  for  taking  the  duties  off  imported  gin  and  whisky. 
Amen.  Thank  God.  A  great  triumph  for  our'temperance  people, 
It  is  a  noble  act,  and  it  took  a  man  of  courage  to  do  it  just  at  this 
time.  There  has  been  much  prayer  among  the  people,  and  espec- 
ially in  our  band  meetings.  We  are  expecting  the  Bishop,  and 
think  we  are  in  good  condition  for  a  blessing. 

Wednesday,  Jan.  21stv  How  glad  I  am  to  be  here  just  at  this 
time,  and  so  to  help  the  Bishop  a  little.  It  appears  that  somehow 
Brother  Ware  and  the  official  brethren  have  had  some  little  mis- 
understanding; so  the  end  of  it  is  to  be  the  paying  of  a  large  sum 
for  the  Bishop's  board.  He  has  arranged  this  matter  with  Mr.  R. 
E.  Sherman,  who  is  a  merchant,  and  has  a  fine  large  house— the 
next  in  rank,  for  size,  to  the  President's  mansion. 

Mr.  Sherman  is  one  of  the  leading  Deacons  in  the  Presbyterian 

Church.     So  it  is  with  him  Brother  Ware  has  arranged  that  the 

Bishop  shall  stop.     He  is  to  have  his  boats  and  crew  all  ready  to 

go  to  meet  the  Bishop,  as  soon  as  the  gun  fires,  and  the  steamer  is 

...  (362) 


Amanda  Smith.  3G3 

In.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sherman  are  among  some  of  the  best  friends 
I  have  in  Monrovia.  How  kind  they  are  to  me.  God  bless  them. 
Mr.  Sherman  does  not  object  to  taking  the  Bishop,  but  thinks 
it  would  not  look  so  well,  when  there  are  men  in  the  Methodist 
Church  who  have  good  houses,  and  are  amply  able  to  entertain 
the  Bishop,  or  anyone  else.  Brother  Henry  Cooper  is  the  leading 
Steward;  he  and  his  son,  Jesse,  both  have  their  own  large  brick 
houses,  and  are  prosperous  merchants,  and  they  have  their  own 
boats  and  crews.  Then  there  is  Brother  Campbell,  also  a  Class 
Leader  and  Steward  in  the  Methodist  Church,  with  a  beautiful 
home.  But  they  do  not  know  anything  about  Brother  Ware's 
arrangement.  After  he  has  thus  completed  all  his  arrangements, 
he  goes  up  the  river. 

On  Wednesday  night  we  had  a  very  precious  meeting.  I  had 
given  a  talk  on  the  message  of  holiness;  well,  it  is  a  kind  of  lecture 
from  that  grand  little  book,  called  the  Believer's  Hand-book  of 
Holiness,  by  Brother  Davies.  I  gave  this  talk  to  the  people;  and 
then  we  closed  with  a  consecration  meeting.  The  Lord  helped  us 
very  greatly.  As  we  were  going  out.  from  the  church  it  was 
•whispered  to  me: 

"  Did  you  know  that  Brother  Ware  had  arranged  for  Bishop 
Taylor,  when  he  comes,  to  stop  with  Mr.  Sherman?" 
"No." 

And  then  it  went,  just  like  a  thing  will  go  in  Liberia.  So  off 
I  started  for  the  facts  in  the  case.  As  I  got  to  Brother  Sherman's 
gate,  he  was  standing  talking  with  some  one.  He  spoke  to  me 
very  kindly,  and  said: 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Smith,  I  hear  your  Bishop  is  coming."   ; 
"Yes,"  I  said,   "so  I  have  heard;  and  that  he  is  to  be  your 
guest." 

"Well,  yes,"  he  said;  "how  is  it  that  you  folks  can't  take 
care  of  your  Bishop?" 

This  remark  was  meant  as  a  joke,  of  course. 
"Well,  now,"  1  said,  "that  is  a  pity,  when  we  have  such  men 
In  the  Methodist  Church  as  Brother  Henry  Cooper,  and  Mr. 
Gabriel  Moore,  and  others.  But  I  think  we  can  relieve  you  of  that 
task,  Mr.  Sherman.  Tho.ugh  I  think  it  is  very  kind  in  you  to  be 
willing  to  entertain  the  Bishop.  But  I'm  going  to  see  Brother 
Cooper  about  it." 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  Brother  Ware  came  to  me  before  he  went 


364  Autobiography  op 

up  the  river,  and  made  the  arrangement.  But  I  think  you  would 
all  feel  better  if  the  Bishop  stopped  with  some  of  your  own  church 
people." 

"Certainly,"  I  said;  "and  when  there  are  those  who  are  so 
able  to  do  it,  without  troubling  you." 

So  I  thanked  him,  and  off  I  went  to  Brother  Cooper's  and  told 
him  all  about  it. 

"  Yes,  Sister  Smith,"  he  said,  "we  are  expecting  the  Bishop 
iiere.  But  Brother  Ware  had  said  nothing  to  me  about  his 
arrangement." 

"  Well,  that  is  the  way  it  is.  And  the  steamer  may  come 
to-night  or  to-morrow.  So  you  get  your  boat  and  everything  ready, 
and  then  tell  Mr.  Sherman  that  you  or  Jesse  will  see  to  getting  the 
Bishop  ashore." 

"  All  right." 

So  all  was  arranged,  and  I  went  home  and  left  the  rest  with 
the  Lord.     The  people  were  glad  that  I  did  what  I  could. 

The  next  morning  was  a  lovely  morning,  as  mornings  in  Africa 
generally  are.  I  was  very  busy  all  day.  In  the  afternoon  I  went 
up  town  and  made  some  calls.  About  seven  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing, a  messenger  came  to  Mrs.  Moore's,  where  f  was,  and  said  the 
Bishop  had  come,  and  had  gone  to  the  church.  It  was  our  regular 
preaching  night;  so  the  Bishop,  when  he  arrived,  made  his  way 
straight  to  the  church. 

My!  when  I  heard  it,  I  went  on  double-quick  down  town; 
went  to  the  church,  and  there  was  the  Bishop  in  the  pulpit.  He 
preached  a  powerful  sermon,  from  the  text:  "Thy  will  be  done." 
And,  as  the  people  generally  turned  out  well  Thursday  nights,  the 
Bishop  had  a  good  congregation,  and  the  people  generally  were 
delighted.  I  was  delighted  beyond  expression.  I  had  seen  him 
before  and  knew  him.     Praise  the  Lord. 

"Well,  how  did  he  get  ashore?" 

When  the  steamer  arrived,  she  didn't  fire  her  gun  signal,  as 
usual;  she  had  no  cargo  for  that  port;  only  came  in  to  let  the 
Bishop  off;  so  the  captain  sent  him  ashore  in  one  of  the  steamer's 
boats,  with  the  chief  officer;  so  that  Brother  Cooper  did  not  have 
to  launch  his  boat,  though  he  was  all  ready,  and  Jesse  had  seen 
the  steamer,  and  was  at  the  wharf  getting  ready  to  send  off,  when 
lo,  and  behold!  there  was  the  Bishop  before  him. 

What  a  beautiful  victory  this  was.     How  often  I  have  stood 


Amanda  Smith  365 

still  and  seen  God  overrule  things  of  man's  device,  and  work  His 
sovereign  will.     Amen. 

So  Bishop  Taylor's  home  from  that  day  has  been  at  Brother 
Henry  Cooper's  house,  when  in  Liberia.  Sometimes  he  has  had 
to  stop  there  three  weeks,  before  he  could  get  away.  And  God 
has  always  helped  Brother  Cooper,  and  always  will. 

How  well  I  remember  that  all  day  holiness  meeting,  when 
God  so  wonderfully  sanctified  Brother  Cooper,  and,  a  few  days 
later,  his  dear  wife.  How  well  I  remember  the  morning  she  came 
to  Sister  Payne's,  singing  her  song  of  victory,  for  she  had  got  the 
baptism  in  her  own  home.  She  came  up  to  Sister  Payne's,  where 
my  home  was.  I  saw  her  when  she  was  coming  in.  Her  face  was 
all  a  glow  of  light.  Oh!  I  shall  never  forget  it.  The  first  thing 
she  said  as  she  came  in,  was: 

"  Glory  to  His  name! 
Glory  to  His  name! 

There  to  my  heart  was  the  blood  api^ied; 
Glory  to  His  name! " 

And  she  has  been  singing  it  ever  since;  in  the  midst  of  trials 
and  storms,  for  sha  has  had  them,  and  so  will  everybody  that  goes 
into  the  fountain  straight.  God  doesn't  often  develop  on  any  other 
line  than  that  of  trial,  and  sometimes  suffering,  in  various  ways; 
*'  For  the  trial  of  your  faith  is  more  precious  than  gold,  though  it 
be  tried  with  fire." 

Saturday,  January  24th.  The  Bishop  and  I  were  invited  to 
take  breakfast  at  the  United  States  Legation,  American  Consul, 
Hon.  John  Smyth.  Prof.  Brown,  who  was  a  guest  of  Mr.  Smyth's, 
was  also  present.  We  had  a  most  elegant  breakfast,  served  in  real 
American  stjie,  and  we  thoroughly  enjoyed  it. 

I  think  the  Bishop  had  no  thought  of  any  such  reception  in 
Africa.  But  Mr.  Smyth,  who  is  so  thoroughly  qualified  for  his 
position,  is  always  quick  to  perform  the  courtesies  due  to  strangers, 
and  especially  those  from  his  own  country,  America. 

The  Bishop  and  I  made  a  number  of  calls  together  in  the 
different  places.  He  never  objected  to  going  anywhere,  among 
the  poorest  of  the  poc"'.  He  would  go  in  and  sit  down,  sing,  pray 
and  talk,  and  leave  his  blessing.  He  never  seemed  to  give  the 
impression  .to  anyone  that  they  need  to  stand  off  from  him, 
or  be  afraid  of  him,  because  he  was  Bishop.  He  was  always 
congenial  and  kind  to  everyone. 


366  Autobiography  of 

The  Conference  convened  on  the  29th.  The  Bishop  preached 
every  night,  and  on  Sunday  morning,  and  then  addressed  the 
Sabbath  School  in  the  afternoon,  and  at  four  o'clock  preached  at 
Krootown.  The  Lord  wonderfully  poured  out  His  spirit,  and 
there  was  a  gracious  revival.  Sinners  were  converted,  back- 
sliders reclaimed,  believers  sanctified.  Oh,  what  a  tidal  wave 
swept  over  us!  So  the  Conference  convened  in  the  midst  of  the 
flood-tide  of  revival.     Praise  the  Lord. 

Sunday,  February  1st,  1885.  The  great  ordination.  Ten  Dea- 
cons and  nine  Elders  ordained  by  Bishop  Taylor.  Glory  to  God.  It 
was  a  wonderful  day.    Such  had  not  been  seen  in  Monrovia  before. 

Monday,  February  2nd.  I  am  very  weak  in  body,  but  my 
faith 'is  strong  in  God.  I  make  some  calls,  and  go  to  see  William 
Potter,  whom  everybody  is  afraid  of,  for  he  is  a  very  wicked  man. 
But  I  never  was  treated  with  more  respect  by  anybody  than  by 
him.  I  talked  to  him,  and  told  him  how  wrong  it  was  to  treat 
himself  and  his  wife  and  children  as  he  did.  He  listened  to  me 
kindly,  and  thanked  me.  Poor,  old  William  Potter.  May  God 
save  him. 

Wednesday,  February  4th.  I  am  asked  to  take  the  service 
to-night.  The  Lord  helped  me  wonderfully.  I  spoke  from  the 
fourteenth  chapter  of  John.  Several  professed  to  be  saved.  At 
six  o'clock  I  invited  the  Bishop,  with  some  of  the  leading  young 
men  of  the  place,  to  tea  at  Mrs.  Payne's.  There  were  but  one  or 
two  of  the  young  men  Christians,  and  I  wanted  them  to  see  the 
Bishop,  as  he  was  so  fatherly,  and  I  thought  a  nice,  good  talk 
from  him  would  do  them  good;  so  in  every  way  possible  I  tried  to 
help.     If  Israel  is  not  gathered,  Jacob  will  not  lose  his  reward. 

Thursday,  February  5th.  I  am  invited,  with  the  Bishop,  to 
take  breakfast  at  Mr.  Gabriel  Moore's.  His  Honor,  the  President 
of  the  Republic,  Hillary  Johnson,  and  Mrs.  Day,  a  white  mission- 
ary of  Muhlenburg  Mission,  of  the  Lutheran  Church,  are  present. 
Mr.  Day  is  not  able  to  be  present.  God  bless  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Day. 
What  a  sanitarium  their  home  at  Muhlenburg  Mission  has  been  to 
those  who  have  been  weary  and  worn.  How  many  pleasant  days 
I  have  spent  at  their  home.  It  was  there  I  had  one  of  my  fiercest 
attacks  of  fever,  and  I  thought  sure  I  would  die.  How  kind  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Day  were.  They  did  all  they  could,  and  they  made  me 
so  comfortable.     May  God  ever  bless  them,  is  my  prayer.     Amen. 

Sunday,  February  8th.     The  new  pastor  is  installed.     Thirty- 


Amanda  Smith.  367 

sovpii  join  the  church  this  morning.  Praise  the  Lord.  I  take  the 
service  at  night.  Speak  from  John,  fifteenth  chapter:  "Abide 
in  Christ."     The  Lord  helps  me,  and  gives  us  blessing. 

Monday,  February  9th.  This  has  been  a  very  busy  day.  I 
called  to  see  Mrs.  Van  Harmon,  a  white  lady,  the  wife  of  one  of 
the  merchants.  She  had  been  sick  with  fever.  She  was  glad  to 
see  me,  and  I  found  her  a  little  better.  Then  I  called  to  see  Mrs. 
Da}',  and  go  with  her  to  church.  She  proposed  having  a  picnic, 
a  little  outing,  for  the  Bishop's  benefit.  She  went  around  among 
the  ladies,  and  it  was  arranged  for. 

Wednesday,  February  11th.  We  all  go  to  Mr.  Johnson's  farm; 
Bishop  Taylor,  Prof.  Brown,  Hon  John  Smyth,  Mr.  Moore,  Mrs. 
C.  A.  Moore,  Miss  Payne  and  a  number  of  others. 

Friday,  February  13th.  Mrs.  C.  A.  Moore  and  daughter,  and 
Dr.  Moore  and  myself  go  to  Madeira,  or  Grand  Canary.  Mrs. 
Moore  had  not  been  well  for  some  time,  and  her  father-in-law 
thought  that  a  trip  would  do  her  good.  Her  mother  consented  to 
her  going,  if  I  would  go  with  her,  as  she  was  not  accustomed  to 
traveling  much.  They  are  very  kind,  and  pay  all  my  expenses, 
and  I  go.     How  much  I  need  the  change  and  rest. 

Sunday,  February  15th.  Sierra  Leone.  We  got  in  early  on 
Saturday  afternoon,  and  went  ashore.  This  morning  we  went  to 
the  Cathedral  and  heard  a  grand  sermon  from  the  new  Bishop, 
Ingham.  We  went  again  this'  evening.  The  sermon  was  on 
"Consecration  and  Holiness."  But  the  people  didn't  seem  to 
know  what  he  was  driving  at.  A  beautiful  congregation;  a  num- 
ber of  white  persons  are  present,  mostly  government  officials. 

Monday,  February  16th.  We  leave  at  ten  this  morning  and  go 
on  the  steamer  again.  And  now  we  are  off.  Thank  the  Lord,  I 
am  feeling  a  little  better. 

Tuesday,  February  17th.  We  are  all  a  little  seasick  to-day. 
I'm  the  best  of  the  party.  Thanks  be  to  God  for  His  loving  mercy, 
for  it  is  wonderful. 

Wednesday,  February  18th.  Praise  God  this  morning  for  His 
goodness.  Mrs.  Moore  and  I  purpose  to  read  the  Gospels  through 
while  on  our  voyage.     May  He  help  us  for  His  name's  sake. 

Thursday,  February  19th.  Head  winds.  That  means  sea- 
sickness. How  mean  one  feels.  But,  Oh!  how  grand  the  ocean. 
How  maiestic  and  God-like.  As  He  holds  and  moves  the  mighty 
ocean,  so  may  He  hold  and  move  me. 


B68  Autobiography  of 

Friday,  February  20th.  Trials  begin.  But,  Lord,  Thou  hast 
been  my  dwelling  place  in  all  ages,  and  such  Thou  art  to-day,  and 
my  soul  doth  magnify  Thee. 

Sunday,  February  22nd.  The  swell  is  not  so  strong  to-day,  so 
we  are  all  feeling  better.  Thank  God.  We  hope  to  reach  Grand 
Canary  by  Tuesday. 

Tuesday,  February  24th.  Praise  the  Lord!  I  am  glad  that 
we  are  at  Grand  Canary.  It  looks  beautiful  from  the  steamer. 
We  will  go  ashore  in  about  two  hours.  First  night  ashore. 
Everybody  speaks  French.  We  don't  understand  anything  anyone 
says,  and  they  do  not  understand  what  we  say.  We  manage  to 
get  on  by  motion  —  almost  perpetual  motion  —  but  we  get  through. 

^Wednesday,  February  25th.  Praise  the  Lord  for  His  goodness 
so  far.  If  we  were  where  we  could  speak  in  our  own  tongue, 
wherein  we  were  born,  with  all  the  kindness  shown  us,  strangers 
among  strange  peoj^le,  we  would  feel  quite  at  home. 

Thursday,  February  2Gth.  The  redeemed  of  the  Lord  shall 
dwell  in  safety  by  Him.  How  very  near  He  has  seemed  all  day 
to-day.  The  lady  of  the  house  goes  out  with  us.  She  under- 
stands a  good  deal  of  English,  but  can  speak  but  little.  She  takes 
us  to  a  store  where  a  gentleman  can  talk  English  quite  well;  so 
that  we  get  a  little  shopping  done,  and  go  through  the  motions  of 
talking  Spanish. 

Saturday,  February  28th.  The  Lord  has  helped  us,  and  a 
little  lad  about  ten  years  old,  a  very  bright  little  fellow,  formerly 
from  Mexico,  comes  to  us  as  interpreter.  We  are  feeling  glad  and 
thankful  to  the  Lord  for  His  love. 

Sunday,  March  1st.  There  is  no  church  service  here,  except 
Roman  Catholic.  So  we  have  a  quiet  rest  in  the  morning;  in  the 
afternoon  we  take  a  little  walk,  and  come  to  a  very  fine  Catholic 
Church;  we  go  in,  and  I  spend  a  half  hour  with  tears  for  the  poor 
people.  Oh,  Lord!  How  long!  How  long!  The  ignorance  of  the 
people,  and  the  arrogance  of  the  priests,  is  something  appalling. 

Tuesday,  March  10th.  We  have  had  some  very  pleasant  walks 
and  drives  since  we  have  been  here.  The  scenery  all  about  is 
beautiful.  The  balmy  air  and  the  beautiful  flowers  and  fruits  of 
all  kinds  are  delightful.  They  tell  us  the  month  of  September  is 
the  finest  month  to  be  here.  We  go  out  to-day  and  finish  our  little 
shopping.  I  have  been  deeply  wounded  to-day.  I  have  made  a 
mistake  in  purchasing  what  I  need  not  have  done.     But  I  did  it 


Kate  Roach,  Siekka  Leone,  Africa. 


Amanda  Smith.  369 

without  first  telling  the  Lord.  I  feel  He  forgives.  With  Him 
is  mercy  and  forgiveness. 

Tuesday,  March  17.  We  have  spent  twenty-one  days,  and  we 
leave  to-day  for  Monrovia  on  the  steamer  "Vaulter,"  Captain 
Haynes. 

Wednesday,  March  18th.  Seasick  all  day.  The  port  hole  was 
loft  open,  and  the  water  floods  the  ladies'  cabin.  I  bail  till  I 
am  quite  exhausted.  I  do  all  I  can  to  help  and  make  it  pleasant 
for  my  friend.  But  I  find  I  fail.  Oh!  how  my  heart  aches  at  the 
spirit  manifested.  But  God  has  undertaken  for  me,  so  I  rest  in 
Him.  A  night  or  two  before  I  left  Grand  Canary,  I  had  a  remark- 
able dream.  I  had  had  a  day  of  trial.  I  prayed  and  wept  before 
the  Lord.  That  night  I  dreamed  of  seeing  a  beautiful  brown 
snake.  It  was  not  long,  and  it  had  the  'face  of  a  woman,  very 
placid  and  nice.  I  seemed  to  know  the  face.  And,  what  was 
more  strange,  it  had  very  black,  wavy  hair;  and  I  thought  to  my- 
self, "  How  pretty  that  snake  is.  It  ought  not  to  be  killed.  But 
then  it  is  a  snake,  and  it  is  one  of  the  poisonous  kind."  Then  the 
face  seemed  to  change  just  a  little,  and  I  .tried  to  get  out  of  the 
way;  and  as  I  stepped  back  from  it,  it  seemed  to  watch  to  see 
which  way  I  went;  and  I  kept  on  going  back  till  I  got  to  where  I 
made  a  spring  to  get  out  of  the  way,  and  this  woke  me.  How  I 
watched  that  dream.  And  how  very  real  it  turned  out.  When 
I  saw  how  it  would  likely  turn  out,  I  trembled  from  head  to  foot, 
and  only  found  relief  from  my  heartache  when  I  would  kneel  in 
prayer. 

Monday,  March  23rd.  Bathurst.  We  shall  not  leave  here 
probably  until  five  o'clock.  So  I  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  Mr. 
Taylor  and  his  wife,  missionaries  of  St.  Louis,  Senegal.  They  are 
very  nice  people.  She  called  to  see  some  friends,  and  took  me 
with  her;  among  others,  Mrs.  Nickles,  Rev.  Nickles'  wife.  He  is 
colonial  chaplain.  She  is  the  daughter  of  Bishop  Crowther  of  the 
Niger.  I  was  glad  to  make  her  acquaintance,  and  we  had  some 
pleasant  correspondence.  They  now  live  at  Freetown,  Sierra 
Leone,  where  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them  frequently. 

Sierra  Leone,  Friday,  March  27th.  The  steamer  has  much 
cargo  to  leave  at  this  port,  so  we  all  go  ashore.  We  dine  with  Mr. 
Boyle,  Liberian  consul  to  Sierra  Leone.  Had  a  very  nice  dinner. 
As  there  were  several  courses,  it  was  very  late  before  we  got 
through.     Prior  to  this  we  walked  about;  made  several  calls  at 


370  Autobiography  of 

different  places.  Then  we  went  to  Mr.  Boyle's,  had  our  dinner, 
and  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock  at  night,  started  back  to  the 
steamer.  Dr.  Moore  went  with  us  to  the  wharf,  and  saw  us  in  the 
boats,  but  we  women  had  to  go  alone  with  the  crew.  How  I  thank 
God.  It  was  a  lovely  moonlight  night;  such  as  is  only  seen  in 
Africa;  for  I  think  the  moon  is  more  lovely  there  than  anywhere 
I  ever  saw  it.  I  thought  it  was  beautiful  in  India.  But,  oh!  the 
moonlight  in  Africa.     It  was  still  and  light. 

The  steamer  lay  a  good  ways  out,  but  we  got  there  in  safety. 
The  captain  was  surprised  when  he  saw  us  alone,  and  said  we  had 
run  a  great  risk.  But  we  did  not  know  it.  Praise  the  Lord  for 
His  goodness.     We  left  Saturday  about  four  p.  m. 

Sunda}-,  March  39th.  The  day  is  very  pleasant.  There  is 
not  much  we  can  do.  I  have  a  few  tracts,  so  give  them  here  and 
there  to  the  men  on  deck,  and  say  a  word  as  best  I  can,  trusting 
the  Lord  will  bless  it. 

Monday,  March  30th.  Eight  o'clock.  Here  we  are  in  Mon- 
rovia harbor.  Praise  the  Lord.  We  are  all  well.  How  good  the 
Lord  is  to  bring  me  home  in  safety  and  peace.  After  a  little  re- 
freshment I  make  several  calls. 

Thursday,  April  2nd,  1885.  The  Lord's  Word  to  me  this 
morning,  is:  "I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life."  A  good, 
quiet  da}',  and  much  peace  and  joy  in  prayer.  I  preach  to-night 
at  the  Methodist  Church,  from  the  5th  chapter  of  Amos.  The 
Lord  help  me. 

Friday,  April  3rd.  (Good  Friday).  The  Lord  is  my  light,  and 
my  salvation.  This  is  one  of  my  fast  days.  My  soul  takes  on  new 
strength.  This  morning  I  go  to  the  Episcopal  Church,  as  it  is  a 
little  nearer,  and  hope  to  hear  a  sermon  on  the  resurrection  of  our 
Lord  and  Savior,  Jesus  Christ.  But  I  am  disappointed  in  the  sub- 
ject. All  right,  Lord,  I  rest  in  Thee.  Thou  hast  risen  in  my  soul. 
Hallelujah! 

Sunday,  April  5th.  Praise  the  Lord,  He  lets  me  live  to  see 
another  Easter  morning. 

Tuesday,  April  7th.  Praise  the  Lord  for  this  day's  privilege. 
What  a  good,  sensible  talk  I  have  listened  to  at  the  Baptist  Church. 
Elder  Jordan,  just  out  from  America,  brings  tlie  truth.  Oh  I  Lord, 
I  thank  Thee.  How  he  has  confirmed  the  Word  that  the  Lord  has 
helped  me  to  give.  Of  course  they  will  believe  it,  for  he  is  a  man, 
and  a  Baptist  at  that. 


Amanda  Smith.  371 

Wednesday,  April  8th.  I  am  very  sorry,  but  the  work  is  hin- 
dered because  of  custom.  The  Baptists  are  not  accustomed  to 
having  speaking  in  a  general  way.  So,  Elder  Jordan,  after  speak- 
ing to-night  arranged  a  general  meeting,  and  says  it  is  free  for  any- 
body to  express  themselves  in  regard  to  the  work. 

Thursday,  April  9th.  Of  course,  as  it  was  not  a  close  meeting, 
several  of  the  Methodists  went.  But  there  were  not  a  baker's  dozen 
of  the  Baptists  there.  They  were  frightened,  I  suppose.  It  was 
too  broad.  He  went  on  for  several  days,  but  nothing  very  special 
was  done. 

Tuesday,  April  21st.  The  Lord  is  good,  a  stronghold  in  the 
day  of  trouble.  I  have  called  and  had  a  talk  with  Brother  Capehart, 
the  pastor  of  the  church,  about  holding  an  all  day  holiness  meet- 
ing.    He  is  favorable,  and  will  do  all  he  can  to  help.     Thank  God. 

Wednesday,  April  32nd.  I  leave  Monrovia  with  Brother 
Deputie  for  Mt.  Olive.  We  leave  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  in  three  hours  we  get  to  what  is  called  "  The  Old  Fields. "  We 
stop  that  night,  and  start  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
reach  Mt.  Olive  at  five.  We  have  to  go  by  canoe.  The  creeks  are 
low,  and  we  have  to  manage  so  as  to  catch  the  tides. 

Sunday,  April  26th.  Praise  the  Lord,  I  am  better  this  morn- 
ing, and  walk  a  mile  to  church  and  take  the  service.  This  is  the 
first  native  church  I  have  been  in  since  I  have  been  in  the  coun- 
try. The  Lord  helped  me  to  speak  from  Hebrews,  12:2.  The 
Lord  blessed.  There  was  one  native  man  who  said  he  would  join  the 
church  if  I  would  stay.  Poor  fellow^.  Sister  Deputie  and  her  fam- 
ily have  stood  very  true  to  the  temperance  cause  ever  since  it  was 
organized. 

Monday,  April  27th.  I  am  not  well  at  all  to-day,  but  I  rest  in 
the  Lord,  and  can  wait  for  Him.  In  the  afternoon  I  have  a  good 
talk  with  Sister  Deputie  and  Sister  Artist.  I  tell  them  my  experi- 
ence of  holiness.     May  God  make  it  a  blessing. 

Tuesday,  April  28th.  A  little  more  strength  this  morning.  I 
go  with  Brother  Deputie,  and  make  four  calls.  Sing  and  pray 
at  each  place,  and  then  walk  home,  and  pray  at  family  worship. 
Many  times,  work  like  this  would  average  seven  times  a  day. 

Wednesday,  April  29th.  I  am  troubled  with  fever  again  to- 
day, in  my  back.  I  am  wonderfully  saved  in  God.  Oh!  how  He 
has  blessed  me  in  my  private  devotion,  and  while  at  family 
prayer. 


372  Autobiography  of 

Friday,  May  1st,  1885.  Brother  Williams  sends  his  son  to  Ml. 
Olive  for  me,  to  bring  me  to  the  canoe,  and  we  start  otf  at  nine  a. 
M.  for  Marshall.  We  stop  at  Grassdale,  a  very  pretty  little  place, 
having  a  number  of  Liberian  settlers,  and  some  very  good  houses. 
I  call  to  see  King  Tom.  Sing,  and  pray  with  him.  He  is  a  good,  old 
man,  and  is  struggling  for  light.    God  save  him.    I  believe  He  will. 

Sunday,  May  3rd.  Marshall,  on  the  Junk  River.  I  took  the 
service  at  the  Methodist  Church  this  morning.  Spoke  from  the 
1st  chapter  of  the  1st  Epistle  of  Peter.  I  had  great  liberty  in 
speaking,  and  I  believe  the  Lord  blessed  the  people.  I  spoke  in 
the  Sabbath  School  in  the  afternoon,  and  spoke  again  at  night. 

Monday,  May  4th.  Leave  Marshall  for  Sheflenville,  at  six  A. 
M.  and  arrive  at  eleven.  Stop  at  Mrs.  D.'s,  have  breakfast,  and 
then  pass  on  to  Paynesville,  which  is  twenty  miles  further  on; 
then  got  out  of  our  canoe  and  walked  seven  miles.  Arrived  at 
Brother  Pitman's  at  seven  p.  m.  If  it  had  not  been  that  Brother 
Deputie  knew  all  this  route  so  well  I  don't  know  what  I  should 
have  done.  When  1  had  almost  given  out  (for  it  seemed  to  me  we 
never  would  get  to  Brother  Pitman's,  that  long  walk  from  the 
mouth  of  the  creek  across  what  they  called  "the  Old  Fields" — it 
was  old  fields,  indeed),  I  said  to  Brother  Deputie,  "  Dear  me, 
Brother  Deputie,  aren't  we  almost Ihere?  " 

"Oh!"  he  said,  "Sister  Smith,  don't  you  know  the  Presby- 
terians believe  in  final  perseverance?  That's  what  we  must  do. 
We  will  get  there  bye  and  bye,'* 

And  so  we  did.  I  think  it  was  about  eigni  o'ciock  in  the 
evening  when  we  got  in.  Brother  and  Sister  Pitman  were  glad  to 
see  us,  and  soon  had  us  a  good  supper,  which  was  very  acceptable, 
for  I  was  hungry.     We  had  a  little  chat,  and  then  went  to  bed. 

Thursday,  May  7th.  I  leave  Brother  Pitman's  to-day  for 
Monrovia.  Have  a  walk  of  two  miles,  then  get  into  the  canoe, 
and  in  three  hours  and  a  half  am  in  Monrovia.     Praise  the  Lord. 

Monday,  May  11th.  A  number  of  letters  written.  Oh!  how 
they  accumulate,  and  what  a  tax  this  is.  And  yet,  how  nice  it  is 
to  receive  letters  from  our  friends  at  home;  and  one  feels  it  is 
right  to  answer  them;  and  I  thank  God  for  the  many  friends  He 
has  given  me. 

I  left  Monrovia  for  the  Conference  at  Bassa,  in  January,  1886.  1 
had  only  arranged  to  stay  three  weeks  —  not  longer;  allowing,  as  I 
thought,  for  the  delay  in  getting  back  to  Monrovia.     I  did  not  take 


Amanda  Smith. 


373 


my  little  native  girl,  Frances,  with  me;  I  left  her  at  my  home,  at 
Mrs.  Paynes',  where  1  staid  in  Monrovia,  where  she  would  be  well 
looked  after  and  cared  for  until  I  got  back. 

I  had  not  heard  directly  from  Bishop  Taylor,  but  as  the  Con- 
ference was  to  be  held  at  Bassa,  we  heard  flying  reports  of  the 
Bishop's  movements:  he  was  to  stop  at  Monrovia,  and  he  was  to 
spend  three  months  in  the  regions  round  about,  go  to  Bopora,  etc. 
Not  that  the  Bishop  had  given  it  out,  or  knew  anything  about 
it;  but  then  some  people  feel  they  have  a  right  to  draw  on  their 
imagination,  or  invent  just  whatever  will  suit  the  case;  and  many 
times  one  will  find  himself  all  at  sea;  for  when  you  think  you  have 
a  fact,  lo!  it  is  not  there.  But  amid  all  this,  there  are  some  facts 
that  remain,  and  will  to  the  end  of  time. 

An  American  vessel  came  in  — the  bark  Monrovia  — and  as  it 
was  going  to  Bassa,  though  it  was  a  week  before  the  opening  of 
the  session  of  Conference,  I  thought  I  had  better  go,  as  I  wanted 
to  go,  and  this  might  be  my  only  chance;  for  though  a  steamer 
was  due,  it  might  not  stop  at  Monrovia. 

The  captain  of  the  vessel  was  kind  enough,  through  a  good 
word  spoken  him  by  my  son  (for  so  he  was  to  me  all  the  time  I 
was  in  Liberia,  God  bless  the  dear  young  man),  B.  Y.  Payne,  and 
put  himself  out  considerably  to  accommodate  me,  and  my  friend 
who  went  with  me,  Mrs.  Emma  Cooper.  I  think  we  were  about 
twenty-four  hours  on  what  they  called  a  "  good  sea." 

Well  we  had  a  week  before  the  Conference  opened.  As  I  had 
not  been  there  for  some  time,  I  spent  the  week  in  visiting  among 
the  people  — the  poor  and  sick,  and  others  on  all  sides. 

I  remember  one  morning  I  called  on  a  poor,  young  German, 
who  was  sick  with  fever.  He  had  not  been  in  Africa  long.  He 
was  a  young  man  who  was  well  raised  and  trained,  well  educated, 
and  bore  about  him  all  the  marks  of  a  gentleman.  He  had  charge 
of  a  German  store  in  Bassa.  As  he  was  alone,  and  lonesome,  he  would 
often  in  the  evening  come  over  and  talk  with  Mr.  Gus.  Williams, 
who  was  his  neighbor,  and  kept  a  large  store  on  the  same  street. 

Poor  fellow!  how  glad  he  was  when  I  called  to  see  him.  He 
said  that  he  was  better;  but  I  saw  from  his  looks  that  he  needed 
help,  and  good  nursing,  and  medical  attention  quick,  or  he  would 
not  stay  long;  the  poor  fellow  tried  to  be  cheerful,  and  I  said 
nothing  to  alarm  him.  I  encouraged  him  to  do  all  he  could  for 
himself,  and  put  his  trust  in  God.     He  was  not  religious,  but  very 


374  Autobiography  op 

respectful.  He  had  been  several  times  in  our  Gospel  Temperance 
meetings,  and  told  me  he  was  much  interested,  I  told  him  I 
would  like  to  pray  with  him;  I  saw  he  was  greatly  embarrassed, 
but  he  did  not  object.  The  Lord  helped  me,  and  I  left  him  with 
a  mother's  pity  in  my  heart. 

In  the  course  of  a  week  or  two  he  was  dead.  How  glad  I  was 
that  I  had  gone  and  done  my  duty  by  this  poor  man.  I  was 
laughed  at  and  criticised  at  the  time.  "The  idea  of  your  going 
and  praying  with  that  white  German  trader! " 

Well,  I  know  that  as  a  rule  they  only  have  respect  for  Africa 
for  the  money  they  get  out  of  it. 

"  But,  Oh!  "  I  said,  "  he  has  a  soul,  and  a  poor  mother  some- 
where; I  believe  she  would  thank  me  for  going  to  see  her  boy  if  no 
one  else  did." 

Oh,  how  often  I  have  pitied  these  young  men;  some  of  them 
were  well  bred,  and  well  raised,  from  Scotland  and  Germany.  I 
have  seen  them  at  Calabar,  and  also  at  Lagos.  I  believe  they 
sign  a  contract  to  stay  a  certain  length  of  time;  and,  being  young, 
and  unused  to  the  climate,  and  having  no  one  to  look  after  them  but 
their  native  men  that  help  around,  many  of  them  in  a  short  time  die. 
How  my  heart  ached  as  I  stood  in  the  grave  yard  at  old  Calabar, 
on  a  beautiful  hillside  facing  the  great  ocean  —  the  missionaries' 
burying  ground.  Some  missionaries  from  Scotland,  and  Jamaica, 
West  Indies,  and  young  men  from  England  and  Germany, 

As  I  stood  and  looked  as  they  were  pointed  out  to  me —  their 
friends  have  sent  many  of  them  beautiful  tomb-stones —  I  wept  as 
I  thought  of  the  song  that  Bishop  Taylor  taught  me  sitting  in  the 
boat  on  the  Cavala  River:  I  shall  never  forget  it,  how  he  sang  it 
the  first  time  I  ever  heard  it: 

**  At  the  sounding  of  the  trumpet,  when  the  saints  shall  gather 
home, 
We  will  greet  each  other  by  the  crystal  sea; 
With  the  friends  and  all  the  loved  ones  that  are  waiting  us  to 
come. 
What  a  gathering  of  the  faithful  that  will  be." 

**  What  a  gathering,  gathering. 

At  the  sounding  of  the  glorious  jubilee. 
What  a  gathering,  gathering, 

What  a  gathering  of  the  faithful  that  will  be.** 


Amanda  Smith.  376 

But  to  return  to  my  story.  I  think  the  Conference  was  to 
convene  on  the  29th,  and  the  Bishop  got  in  several  days  before  the 
time,  also.  It  was  well  that  I  left  Monrovia  on  that  vessel,  for  the 
steamer  that  brought  the  Bishop  did  not  stop  at  Monrovia;  only  at 
Bassa;  so  I  should  have  missed  it,  if  I  had  waited  for  that  steamer. 

I  was  at  Lower  Buchanan,  and  did  not  know  the  Bishop  had 
arrived  until  several  hours  after;  and  I  went  up  to  Edina,  the  seat 
of  the  Conference,  and  there  was  quite  a  stir.  The  Bishop  had 
arrived.  The  brethren  were  coming  in  from  their  different  sta- 
tions, and  several  had  got  in,  taking  their  opportunities  as  best 
they  could.  It  was  not  very  convenient  for  them  always  to  get  to 
Conference  in  Africa.  Sometimes  they  had  to  go  two  or  three  days 
ahead  in  order  to  be  there  in  time. 

Brother  Rust,  Sr.,  was  pastor  in  charge  of  the  church  at 
Edina,  and  the  old  gentleman  was  a  little  peculiar;  and  as  the 
Bishop  had  come  unexpectedly,  and  he  had  not  got  a  notification 
in  due  time,  as  he  thought  he  ought  to  have  done,  he  was  feeling 
quite  out  of  sorts.  And  besides,  he  was  getting  his  house 
shingled;  and  hf  being  pastor,  of  course  the  Bishop,  when  he 
arrived,  was  sent  to  his  house. 

I  was  told  all  this,  and  how  unpleasant  they  were  feeling,  so 
as  I  knew  them  very  well,  I  thought  I  would  go  up  and  help  a  little 
bit.  So  I  went  to  the  house  and  found  that  the  old  gentleman,  and 
his  wife,  too,  were  feeling  just  as  I  had  heard.  They  began  to  tell 
me  how  unprepared  they  were,  etc.  I  talked  to  them,  and  told 
them  the  Bishop  was  very  plain,  and  would  not  expect  them  to  do 
any  extra  fixing  for  him.  Of  course  I  talked  quietly,  for  the 
Bishop  was  in  the  room  near  by. 

They  thought  someone  else  could  have  accommodated  him 
better.  But  this  one  was  afraid  because  he  was  "  Bishop,"  and 
another  one  did  not  like  to  do  it,  because  he  was  "Bishop." 
So  as  I  was  talking  and  explaining  to  Brother  and  Sister  Rust  as 
best  I  could,  the  dear  Bishop  overheard  what  we  were  saying,  and 
he  called  out: 

"  Oh,  brethren,  don't  trouble  about  me;  I  can  sleep  outdoors;  I 
would  prefer  to  do  so." 

And  when  I  went  into  the  room,  there  he  sat,  smiling,  and 
mending  his  mosquito  net. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "  Amanda,  how  are  you?  " 
"Very  well.  Bishop;  God  bless  you." 


876  Autobiography  of 

"  Have  you  got  a  thimble?  I  cannot  get  on  so  well  without  a 
thimble." 

So  I  got  a  thimble  and  helped  him  mend  his  mosquito  net. 
But  he  didn't  have  to  sleep  outdoors. 

As  the  Bishop  had  arrived  several  days  before  the  Conference, 
he  had  an  extra  Sunday,  and  Brother  Morgan,  who  had  charge  of 
our  church  at  Hartford,  came  down  to  Edina  and  insisted  on  the 
Bishop's  going  up  and  preaching  for  them  on  Sunday  at  Hartford. 
Edina  was  a  larger  town,  and  the  Bishop  would  have  preached  on 
Sunday  to  a  larger  number  of  people;  but  as  the  people  had  never 
seen  him  up  in  that  part,  Brother  Morgan  was  very  anxious  that 
he  should  go  up,  and  he  asked  me  if  I  would  accompany  the 
Bishop, 

Of  course  I  went,  and  if  he  had  not  asked  me  I  should  have 
gone  anyhow,  because  I  knew  all  the  people  up  there.  I  had  been 
up  there  about  six  months,  and  I  knew  I  would  be  of  some  service 
to  look  after  the  Bishop  a  little,  and  do  all  I  could;  and  having 
been  up  there  before,  I  had  the  hang  of  things  a  little,  and  I  was 
quite  sure  I  would  be  of  service. 

So  on  Saturday  afternoon  Brother  Rust,  the  Bishop,  myself 
and  several  others  went  to  Hartford. 

It  was  not  as  convenient  for  Brother  Morgan's  folks  as  it  would 
have  been  for  some  others  that  I  knew  to  entertain  the  Bishop, 
but  he  thought  as  he  was  pastor,  and  had  invited  the  Bishop,  it 
was  his  duty  to  entertain  him.  So  his  sister-in-law,  Miss  Barclay, 
and  myself  arranged  the  room  the  best  we  could.  I  stopped  with 
a  friend  not  far  away,  and  went  back  and  forth  and  did  all  I  could. 

The  dear  old  Bishop  was  as  kind,  and  gentle,  and  pleasant,  as 
if  he  had  been  in  a  palace.  He  sat  and  conversed,  and  made  the 
poor  things  feel  comfortable,  because  he  saw  they  were  doing  the 
best  they  could. 

My!  as  I  think  it  over  now,  I  wonder  what  some  of  our 
Bishops  at  home  would  have  done.  There  are  no  hotels  in  Africa 
like  there  are  here,  but  there  are  some  pleasant  and  comfortable 
homes.  But  these  are  not  always  the  people  that  take  the  Bishop. 
Brother  Morgan  was  a  grand  man;  a  black  Englishman,  born, 
raised  and  educated  in  the  West  Indies;  a  very  intelligent  man. 
His  wife,  also,  was  a  West  Indian  — a  Miss  Barclay. 

The  family  of  Barclays  are  as  fine  a  family  as  there  is  in 
Liberia.     Mr.  Arthur  Barclay  is  a  leading  lawyer  in  Monrovia, 


Amanda  Smith.  .377 

a  youn^  man  of  high  moral  character,  and  a  real,  true  standby  in 
our  Methodist  Sunday  School,  and  also  an  earnest  worker  in  the 
temperance  cause;  or  was  when  I  was  there. 

The  Bishop  preached  at  Hartford  Sunday  morning  and  even- 
ing in  our  little  church.  On  Monday  we  went  to  Fortsville,  and 
he  preached  there  Monday  night.  Tuesday  we  came  back  to 
Edina,  had  a  rest  of  a  day  or  so,  and  then  the  Conference. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

OLD  CALABAR  —  VICTORIA'S  JUBILEE  —  CAPE  MOUNT  —  CLAY- ASH- 
LAND HOLINESS  ASSOCIATION  —  RELIGION  OF  AFRICA  —  TRIAL 
FOR   WITCHCRAFT  —  THE   WOMEN   OF   AFRICA. 

Old  Calabar,  West  Africa,  May  29,  1887.  To-day  I  made  my 
first  visit  to  the  King's  Yard  at  Duketown.  Mrs.  Lisle  and  I,  with 
a  native  Christian  woman  for  interpreter,  visited  the  women  in 
the  native  town.  Oh,  the  sadness,  and  the  deplorable  condition  of 
these  poor  women.  The  wives  of  the  kings  and  chiefs  are  not 
allowed  to  go  out  to  church,  or  to  go  out  at  all  without  permission. 

The  first  yard  we  visited  was  that  of  a  big  chief  who  has 
about  twenty  wives,  and  that  number,  or  more,  of  slaves.  The 
first  court  was  the  quarters  and  houses  of  these  slaves.  Passing 
out  of  this,  up  a  dingy  alley  into  a  small  court,  then  through  a 
door  into  a  large,  open  courtyard,  we  come  to  the  quarters  of  the 
wives. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  first  door  are  planted  in  the  doorway 
four  human  skulls.  I  tried  to  step  aside,  but  every  way  I  stepped 
it  seemed  to  me  I  stepped  on  one.  It  was  a  very  uncomfortable 
feeling,  but  then  I  knew  I  had  not  done  anything  to  the  poor  souls. 

In  the  center  of  the  yard  of  this  large  court  was  a  tree  with  a 
little,  low  frame-work  around  it.  Within  this  frame-work  was  a 
large  American  dish,  such  as  we  would  use  here  to  put  a  turkey 
on,  with  a  human  skull  on.  As  I  looked  at  it  I  thought  of  Daniel 
Webster.  It  was  a  skull  quite  resembling  that  of  the  great  states- 
man; of  such  marvelous  shape  and  proportions. 

To  the  right,  and  very  nearly  in  front,  was  the  head  of  a  goat. 
All  had  been  sacrificed.     I  said,  "When  was  this  done?  " 

"  Oh,  years  ago,  men  and  women  were  offered  for  sacrifice;  but 
since  the  missionaries  have  been  here  it  has  been  stopped,  and  the 
skulls  are  a  remembrance." 

(378) 


Amanda  Smith.  379 

My  socond  visit  to  the  King's  Yard  was  Sunday,  Juno  12th. 
We  went  to  four  houses.  I  sang,  and  talked  through  an  inter- 
preter, and  prayed,  and  told  them  how  I  found  Jesus,  and  how  He 
saved  me.  Poor  things,  how  interested  they  seemed;  and  I  saw  the 
great  tears  in  their  ej^es. 

Some  of  the  women  were  very  good  looking;  good  features  and 
beautifully  formed,  as  are  also  their  children.  Oh,  how  my  heart 
longed  after  them  for  Jesus. 

At  the  house  of  Ironbar,  who  is  a  big  chief,  the  first  thing  we 
saw  on  entering  was  in  one  corner  of  the  courtyard  a  large  juju, 
the  head  of  an  elephant,  which  represents  a  superstition  they  all 
believe  in,  and  which  they  all  have,  in  some  shape  or  form,  in 
their  houses.  They  also  have  the  skulls  of  goats,  numbers  of 
human  skulls,  turtle  shells,  chicken  feathers,  lots  of  long  strings,  or 
bits  of  rag,  hanging  in  strings  and  tied  in  different  knots. and 
loops,  and  plenty  of  dirty  grease  poured  over  them. 

This  was  a  big  chief.  He  dressed  like  a  gentleman,  in 
English  clothes,  and  was  my  first  escort  to  the  Presbyterian 
Church. 

He  had  a  train  of  servants  behind  him  to  carry  his  umbrella, 
which  was  large,  and  of  different  colors  of  silk;  blue,  yellow, 
green,  red,  etc.,  and  a  brass  knob  on  top  as  big  as  a  good  sized  tea- 
cup; two  men  could  manage  it  quite  well;  then  they  would  take 
turns.  Ironbar  went  to  church  nearly  every  Sunday;  and  yet  he 
was  as  full  of  superstition  and  heathenism  as  if  he  had  never 
heard  the  Gospel. 

At  the  third  yard,  buried  at  the  threshold,  there  was  a  human 
skull,  over  which  one  must  walk  to  get  in.  Oh,  what  horror!  a 
human  graveyard.  But  what  about  all  you  have  not  seen  and 
heard  of,  of  horrors?  I  said,  "  Oh,  Lord,  how  long  shall  the  dread- 
ful night  of  heathenism  last?  Oh.  that  the  day  may  break,  and 
that  right  early.     Amen." 

At  the  fourth  yard,  as  we  passed  the  king's  palace,  to  go  to 
the  court  where  his  wives  stayed,  we  looked  in  and  saw  the  table, 
on  which  were  bottles  of  champagne  and  brandy;  and  some  eight 
or  more  of  the  lords,  and  princes,  and  rulers  gathered  around, 
while  their  servants  stood  ready  to  do  their  bidding;  and  as  they 
drank  their  wine  and  smoked,  I  thought  of  King  Belshazzar  and 
the  writing  on  the  wall.  May  God  hasten  the  time  when  this 
kingdom  will  be  taken  from  them  and  given  to  the  King  of  kings, 


380  AuTOBIOGRArHY  OF 

At  the  fifth  yard  we  saw  the  queen;  a  great,  fat  woman,  with 
most  regular  features,  handsome  brown  skin,  beautiful  hands  and 
arms,  and  very  small  feet;  her  hair  was  done  up  in  beautiful  style; 
she  was  very  dignified,  and  tried  to  be  pleasant,  but  I  could  see 
she  was  in  no  sympathy  with  Jesus.  I  ventured  to  give  her  a  few 
words,  sang  a  hymn,  and  left  her.  She  was  in  full  costume;  about 
three  yards  of  beautiful  cloth  about  her  loins  was  all  she  had  on! 
She  has  slaves  by  the  hundred. 

A  few  days  before  one  had  hanged  himself,  supposed  to  have 
been  kidnapped  and  brought  in,  and  the  horror  of  slavery  there  is, 
to  many,  as  it  was  here,  and  they  often  kill  themselves,  by  drown- 
ing and  hanging;  his  head  was  cut  off  and  taken  to  the  queen  as  a 
relic.     Some  of  the  wives  are  girls  of  about  fourteen. 

Duketown,  Old  Calabar,  June  20th,  1887.  This  is  a  great  day 
in  England  and  the  Provinces;  the  jubilee  of  the  fifty  years'  reign 
of  the  good  queen.  I  should  like  to  have  been  in  England,  and 
could  have  gone;  but  I  thought  how  many  poor  missionaries  would 
have  been  glad  to  be  there,  just  for  a  little  change  and  rest,  as  well 
as  to  be  at  the  great  royal  anniversary,  but  their  work,  and,  with 
some,  the  want  of  means,  kept  them  from  going;  and  I  thought, 
though  I  needed  the  rest  so  much,  and  the  doctor  had  told  me  I 
would  need  to  get  out  of  the  country,  and  have  an  entire  change 
of  climate,  before  I  could  hope  to  be  much  better,  that  it  was 
right  to  deny  myself  this  great  and  only  privilege  that  I  should 
ever  have  of  seeing  such  a  demonstration,  and  in  doing  it  the  Lord 
blessed  me,  and  I  trust  will  answer  the  little  prayer  He  put  in  m}' 
heart  for  the  queen,  whose  reign  for  fifty  years  has  been  of  such  a 
beautiful,  high  moral,  Christian  character.  May  her  life  and 
health  be  very  precious  in  His  sight;  may  she  live  long,  to  be  a 
blessing  to  all  nations;  and  when  her  reign  is  ended  here,  may  she 
reign  with  Him,  who  is  the  Lord  of  all  nations,  and  out  of  all  has 
redeemed  unto  Himself,  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  kings  and  priests 
unto  God.     Amen.     Amen. 

Clay-Ashland,  Liberia,  West  Africa,  July  12th,  1888.  For  a 
long  time  there  has  been  a  good  deal  of  interest  manifested  among 
a  number  of  Christians,  on  the  subject  of  personal  holiness;  and 
since  the  revival,  which  has  been  going  on  for  the  last  three 
weeks,  this  interest  has  been  intensified,  and  under  consideration 
at  different  times  with  several  of  the  members,  and  with  some  of 
the  leading  Stewards  of  the  church. 


Amanda  Smith.  381 

I  suggested  the  propriety  of  having  a  stated  meeting  once  a 
month,  for  the  promotion  of  holiness,  and  for  the  benefit  of  those 
who  were  specially  and  definitely  interested  on  the  subject.  And 
in  order  that  the  object  of  this  meeting  might  be  better  under- 
stood, we  thought  it  well  to  organize  it  into  an  association,  to  be 
called  the  "Clay-Ashland  Holiness  Association."  It  has  the 
endorsement  of  the  pastor  of  the  church,  Rev.  James  Cooper,  and 
also  has  the  benefit  of  his  own  personal  experience  of  the  blessing 
of  entire  sanctification. 

It  was  decided  thai  the  pastor  should  appoint  an  assistant  to 
Sister  Martha  Ricks,  as  she  always  had  an  assistant  at  her  Friday 
afternoon  prayer  meeting;  and  then  Sister  Ricks  might  call  any- 
one else  to  assist  whom  she  might  choose. 

In  order  that  we  might  help  each  other  more,  spiritually,  we 
thought  it  advisable  to  suggest  that  we  be  very  watchful,  very 
prayerful,  and  devoted  to  God;  and  endeavor  to  lead  a  life  of  self- 
denial  and  fear  of  God,  and,  as  much  as  lay  within  us,  to  live  con- 
sistent lives,  and  by  all  means  endeavor  to  avoid  the  appearance  of 
evil;  in  praying  for  the  blessing,  be  definite;  in  testimony  after 
receiving,  be  definite  and  God  will  strengthen  your  heart,  and 
strengthen  your  faith;  stand  together;  and,  with  a  firm  faith  in 
God,  you  may  not  fear;  but  trust  ye  in  the  Lord  forever,  for  in  the 
Lord  Jehovah  is  everlasting  strength.     Amen. 

I  had  prayed,  and  asked  the  Lord  for  guidance  about  going, 
and  had  been  disappointed  so  often;  then  I  had  been  down  with  a 
severe  attack  of  fever,  and  was  quite  weak;  but  the  opportunity 
came  to  go  to  Cape  Mount,  and  I  thought  I  would  go.  Mr.  Sher- 
man's boat  was  going  up,  and  they  told  me  I  could  go  in  it.  As 
I  opened  my  Bible,  my  eyes  fell  on  these  words,  which  I  took  as 
an  assurance  to  start  with:  "  I  shall  not  die,  but  live,  and  declare 
the  goodness  of  God." 

After  we  had  got  started,  about  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, a  storm  came  upon  us  about  nine  o'clock  at  night,  and  raged 
fearfully;  it  seemed  every  minute  that  the  boat  would  be  capsized; 
a  strong  head  wind,  and  we  were  dreadfully  sick;  I  was  so  sick  I 
could  hardly  hold  up  my  head. 

But  all  the  time,  as  the  little  boat  dashed  to  and  fro,  and  it 
seemed  every  moment  as  if  it  would  go  to  pieces,  the  Lord  kept  my 
heart  very  calm  by  repeatedly  bringing  these  words  to  my  mind: 
**  I  shall  not  die,  but  live,  and  declare  the  goodness  of  God."  And 
so  it  did  come  to  pass.     Hallelujah! 


382  Autobiography  of 

On  the  3rd  of  June,  1889,  I  made  another  attempt  to  go  to 
Cape  Mount,  just  before  leaving  Liberia  for  America.  This  was 
my  hist  opportunity,  and  as  I  had  visited  all  the  other  towns  in  the 
republic,  I  felt  I  must  see  Cape  Mount.  As  this  was  a  very  beautiful 
day,  I  went  around  to  see  if  I  could  get  some  good  sister  to  go  with 
me.  I  asked  several,  but  as  it  was  not  a  very  pleasant  time  of 
year  to  go,  no  one  was  able  to  go  with  me.  I  went  to  Mrs.  Sherman 
and  asked  her  if  she  could  not  suggest  someone.  She  said  she 
thought  Amanda  McCrumidy  would  go. 

Amanda  was  a  good  friend  of  mine,  and  had  a  sister  who 
lived  in  Cape  Mount,  and  as  she  was  in  charge  of  Mrs.  President 
Robert's  house,  in  Monrovia,  I  thought  probably  she  might  be 
able  to  go;  so  I  called  and  asked  her,  and  at  once  she  consented. 
She  was  not  a  very  strong  body,  but  very  brave  hearted;  I  could 
not  have  got  anybody  from  Monrovia  who  was  better  suited  for 
this  trip,  (for  we  had  an  ojDen  boat),  than  was  Miss  McCrumid}-. 

I  went  to  Mr.  Isaac  Dixon,  who  was  a  large  trader  in  Mon- 
rovia, and  also  had  a  business  at  Cape  Mount,  and  asked  him  if 
he  could  send  me  up  in  one  of  his  boats;  of  course  I  was  to  pay 
for  it.  He  was  very  kind,  and  gave  me  a  good  boat  and  a  crew  of 
his  best  men.  We  were  to  start  on  Tuesday  morning.  Monday 
afternoon,  about  four  o'clock,  the  clouds  gathered  black,  and  we 
were  threatened  with  a  dreadful  storm.  As  I  looked  out  and  saw 
the  clouds,  my  faith  quivered  just  a  little,  but  I  looked  up  to  the 
Lord,  and  in  a  moment  all  was  calm.  On  Tuesday  morning,  June 
fourth,  the  Lord  had  confirmed  the  assurance  in  my  heart  that  I 
was  to  go.  At  six  a.  m.,  the  clouds  were  black  and  lowering,  the 
thunder  rolled,  the  winds  blew,  but  my  faith  never  wavered;  that 
was  my  time  to  go.  So  about  eight  o'clock  my  friend,  Amanda, 
came,  and  said:  "  Are  you  going?  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  I  said.  A  few  moments  later  Mrs.  Dixon  sent 
her  little  boy  to  say  for  me  not  to  go;  she  was  afraid  we  would 
have  a  great  storm.     But  I  said,  "  No,  this  is  my  time  to  go." 

I  found  when  I  got  down  to  the  waterside  that  Mr.  Dixon's 
heart  had  failed  him;  he  was  in  hopes  I  would  decide  not  to  go. 
But  they  built  a  kind  of  booth  over  the  boat  to  protect  us  a  little 
from  the  sun  and  storm,  and  off  we  started  for  Cape  Mount.  We 
were  out  all  (lay  and  all  night  and  reached  Cape  Mount  at  seven 
o'clock  next  morning.     We  praised  the  Lord  again  and  again. 

Thursday,  June  (5tU,    Macle  several  calls,  and  preached  to  a, 


Amanda  Smith.  383 

full  house  at  night,  and  the  Lord  gave  me  great  liberty  in  speak- 
ing, and  helped  the  people. 

Friday,  7th.  We  arranged  a  hammock,  and  walked  three 
miles  to  a  new  settlement  to  visit  the  emigrants;  and  of  all  the  sad 
sights  I  ever  saw,  it  was  those  poor  people;  how  my  heart  ached 
for  them;  destitute,  and  sick,  and  ignorant;  there  was  not  a  house 
among  them,  that  I  visited,  thut.  was  anything  like  comfortable. 

Saturday,  8th.  I  visited  at  Mrs.  Briley's  station,  the  Episco- 
pal Mission.  This  lady  was  a  white  missionary,  and  has  spent  a 
number  of  years  in  Africa,  and  I  suppose  will  be  there  the  balance 
of  her  daj'S.  This  used  to  be  a  very  prosperous  station;  but  from 
what  I  saw  of  it,  it  seemed  to  lack  about  everything,  and  need 
about  everything. 

Sunday,  9th.  I  preached  twice,  and  addressed  the.  Sabbath 
School. 

Monday,  10th  Six  a.  m.  We  are  off  to  our  open  boats  again 
to  Monrovia.  Out  all  night.  Oh,  how  good  the  Lord  is.  A  storm 
overtakes  us  and  threatens  us  heavily.  As  I  looked  up  to  my 
Father,  God,  and  called  on  Him  to  help  us.  He  answered  me  speed- 
ily, and  in  a  little  while  the  wind  seemed  to  subside,  and  the 
clouds  passed  away. 

Tuesday,  11th.  Still  in  the  boat,  and  sick;  but  the  morning 
is  lovely.  Praise  the  Lord.  We  get  to  Monrovia  aoout  eleven 
o'clock. 

I  am  often  asked,  "What  is  the  religion  of  Africa?"  Well, 
where  I  was  they  had  no  real  form  of  religion.  They  were  what 
we  would  call  devil  worshipers.  They  say  God  is  good;  He  don't 
make  any  humbug  for  them;  so  there  is  no  need  of  praying  to 
Him.  But  they  pray,  and  dance,  and  cook  large  dishes  of  rice 
and  fish,  and  set  it  out  of  a  night  so  that  the  Devil  can  have  a  good 
meal.  They  think  if  they  feed  him  well,  and  keep  on  good  terms 
with  him,  he  will  give  them  good  crops  and  good  luck,  and  keep 
away  sickness.  If  smallpox,  or  any  sickness  of  that  kind  comes  to 
their  town,*they  say  it  is  because  somebody  has  made  the  Devil  mad. 

While  at  Baraka  with  Bishop  Taylor,  I  had  my  first  experience 
of  their  laws  and  customs.  Sister  Betty  Tubman,  Aunt  Julia 
Fletcher,  and  I,  went,  in  company  with  the  Bishop,  to  open  a  sta- 
tion at  Baraka.  It  is  a  large,  native  town,  and  years  ago  the 
Methodist  Church  had  a  flpurighing  station  right  near  this  gt^me 
town. 


384  Autobiography  of 

As  Bishop  Taylor  had  come  to  Africa  to  help  my  people  by 
establishing  missions  and  schools,  I  felt  it  was  my  duty  to  do  all  1 
could  to  help,  and  stand  by  the  Bishop,  and  do  what  I  could  by 
looking  after  the  little  necessities. 

I  had  a  large  canteen,  as  they  call  them  in  Africa;  we  would 
say  lunch  box  here;  so  I  would  fill  it  with  food,  the  best  I  could 
got;  I  would  bake  a  large  pone  of  bread,  and  get  some  tinned  meats, 
and  a  ham,  when  I  could.  Five  dollars  was  about  the  cheapest  a 
ham  could  be  got  for  at  Cape  Palmas,  but  even  at  that  they  didn't 
have  to  hang  on  the  hands  of  the  merchants;  for  when  it  comes  to 
food,  the  Liberians  are  not  stingy,  and  ham  is  not  a  rarity,  though 
they  don't  have  them  every  day;  but  generally  manage  when  they_ 
want  them  specially.  They  can  often  get  things  of  this  kind,  that 
are  expensive,  in  trade,  with  coffee  or  palm  oil.  But,  of  course,  I 
had  nothing  of  this  kind,  and  had  always  to  pay  cash  for  what  I 
got  at  the  stores. 

Then  I  had  a  little  kerosene  stove  that  I  took  with  me,  and 
cocoa,  and  coffee,  and  a  tin  of  condensed  milk,  and  biscuits,  or 
hardtack,  for  bread  don't  last  very  long;  if  you  attempt  to  keep  it, 
it  will  sour  or  mould;  so  we  generally  use  it  up  while  it  is  fresh, 
and  fall  back  on  hardtack. 

The  Lord  was  so  good  that  T  generally  had  a  little  cash  by  me. 
But  often  it  was  not  a  question  of  cash,  and  you  couldn't  get  the 
things  you  needed;  they  were  not  to  be  had.  But  it  was  wonderful 
how  I  learned  to  manage  and  get  on.  It  is  said  that  necessity  is 
the  mother  of  invention;  and  Africa  is  certainly  the  place  where 
it  can  be  developed. 

We  used  to  get  up  in  the  morning  early;  I  would  boil  some 
water  and  make  the  Bishop  a  cup  of  cocoa  or  coffee,  and  so  give 
him  an  early  breakfast. 

The  natives  were  always  kind  and  hospitable;  they  would  have 
their  meal  about  nine  or  ten  o'clock;  but  we  would  be  very  faint 
by  that  time,  not  being  used  to  it;  and,  as  the  Bishop  was  a  very 
early  riser,  I  knew  it  was  best  for  him  to  have  something  to  eat 
before  that  time.  And  then  I  always  took  at  least  a  cup  of  tea,  or 
something  before  it  was  late  in  the  day. 

The  natives  would  bring  in,  perhaps,  a  chicken.  They  didn't 
scald  them  and  pick  them  as  we  do;  they  would  kill  them  and 
swing  them  over  a  fire;  and,  of  course,  all  the  feathers  they  didn't 
get  off,  we  would  have  to  take  off  ourselves;  then  they  would  bring 


Amanda  Smith.  385 

great  calabashes  of  rice,  and  pepper,  for  they  use  everything  very 
hot  with  pepper;  that  was  one  of  the  things  I  never  could  get  used 
to,  the  hot  pepper.  But  the  dear  old  Bishop  vi^ould  help  himself 
to  the  rice  and  fOwl,  and  goat,  for  they  would  often  kill  a  goat  in 
the  morning  and  cook  it  for  breakfast. 

We  would  set  a  box  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  I  would 
spread  a  cloth  over  it,  and  they  would  set  these  calabashes  on,  and 
we  would  sit  down.  Sometimes  they  would  bring  in  three  or  four 
calabashes;  we  would  have  to  eat  some  out  of  each  one;  they 
wouldn't  feel  pleasant  at  all  if  we  sent  one  back  without  eating  out 
of  it;  so  we  generally  had  plenty,  if  we  could  only  eat  it;  one  often 
has  to  acquire  the  taste  before  he  can  really  like  it.  I  was  in 
Africa  a  whole  year  before  I  really  enjoyed  or  relished  my  food. 
Everything  seems  to  taste  different;  but  some  get  used  to  it  very 
quickly,  and  others  take  some  time.  I  always  had  plenty  to  eat  in 
Africa.  I  never  saw  a  day  but  what  I  had  plenty,  though  it  was 
not  always  what  my  appetite  relished. 

I  thought  when  we  got  to  Baraka  that  we  would  make  a  fire 
outside,  and  we  would  have  a  real  picnic  time.  •  We  would  cook 
everything  the  way  we  wanted  to  cook  it,  just  as  they  do  at  pic- 
nics; for  Aunt  Julia  and  Betty,  were  both  good  cooks,  and  on  that 
line  I  was  expecting  just  to  show  the  Bishop  how  nicely  we  could 
treat  him. 

But,  lo,  when  we  got  there  we  were  not  allowed  to  make  a  fire 
outside  at  all;  whatever  cooking  was  done,  must  be  done  in  the 
native  house  we  occupied.  No  fire  was  allowed  outside,  except  a 
kind  of  kiln,  where  they  burned  their  pottery  —  all  sorts  of  vessels 
made  of  clay,  which  are  put  in  the  fire  and  burned. 

It  is  wonderful  how  clever  they  are  in  those  things;  they  make 
all  their  cooking  utensils;  we  would  call  it  earthen  ware;  some  of 
them  are  very  pretty;  they  are  strong  and  well  made,  and  of  all 
sizes;  jars  that  will  hold  one,  two,  three  and  five  gallons  of  water; 
then  there  are  smaller  utensils. 

We  stayed  in  the  king's  best  house;  a  large,  native  house;  mud 
floor,  but  dry;  no  windows,  no  chimney;  there  was  a  space  in  the 
floor  where  we  made  the  fire,  and  did  the  cooking,  and  the  smoke 
would  ascend  and  go  all  through  the  thatch.  I  don't  know  how  I 
stood  it,  but  I  got  on  beautifully.  When  the  wood  was  wet  and 
would  smoke  a  good  deal,  I  would  suffer  with  smoke  in  my  eyes; 
but,  somehow,  I  have  an  idea  that  smoke  was  healthy  in  Africa! 


386  Autobiography  op 

The  cusiom  was  that  every  house  in  the  town  in  the  evening 
had  a  little  fire  outside  in  front  of  the  door,  and  many  times  a 
piece  of  tobacco  and  a  pipe  would  be  laid  by  it;  that  was  for  any 
of  their  friends  who  were  dead,  or  the  Devil  coulfl  come  and  light 
his  pipe;  (of  course  they  suppose  the  Devil  smokes);  they  thought 
it  was  a  good  thing,  and  would  please  him.  This  was  why  they 
would  not  allow  us  to  build  a  fire  outside.  I  thought  it  was  non- 
sense; but  they  told  me  I  had  better  not  persist.  So,  when  I  sent 
word  to  the  king,  and  he  said,  no,  we  could  not  make  a  fire  out- 
side, and  when  I  took  a  walk  myself  all  through  the  town,  just 
about  dusk,  and  saw,  sure  enough,  by  every  hut  a  little  bunch  of 
wood  that  had  been  burned  and  was  ready  to  light  again,  I  just 
did  as  I  was  told,  and  did  my  cooking  in  my  own  native  housiv 

While  we  were  there  the  old  king's  head  wife,  who  was  the 
queen  wife,  was  tried  and  condemned  as  a  witch.  That  meant 
that  she  was  to  die  by  drinking  sassy  wood. 

One  of  the  other  wives  of  the  king  accused  the  head  wife  of 
bewitching  her  child.  The  child  was  a  girl  about  fourteen  j'ears 
old,  and  while  in  the  casava  farm  digging  casavas  she  was  bitten 
by  what  is  called  the  casava  snake,  which  is  as  poisonous  as  the 
cobra  of  India.  When  this  child  died  they  said  it  was  because 
the  head  wife  had  bewitched  her;  and  when  any  one  is  accused 
of  being  a  witch  she  must  die. 

This  poor  woman  ran  awa}'  and  was  gone  three  monihs,  to  her 
people.  And  being  the  king's  head  wife  it  was  what  they  callid 
a  great  "shame  palaver;"  anything  to  happen  to  the  king's  wife 
— that  was  very  bad  indeed. 

As  the  king's  wife  was  of  a  very  high  family,  they  all  came 
together,  and  it  took  them  three  months  before  they  could  settle 
it.  But  it  was  settled  and  she  had  decided  to  drink  the  sassy 
wood. 

She  had  two  sons,  splendid  young  men;  they  were  tall  and 
graceful,  just  like  their  father,  the  king;  they  were  very  bright 
young  men,  and  one  of  them  could  speak  good  English.  So  they 
told  us  on  Friday  that  the  mother  was  to  drink  sassy  wood  on  Sat- 
urday again;  she  had  to  drink  it  twice.  So  we  asked  them  to  come 
and  tell  us  when  the  time  came,  and  they  said  they  would. 

The  mother  stopped  at  another  little  native  town  about  a  half 
mile  away  from  this  big  town.  So  on  Saturday  morning  about 
eight  o'clock  the  young  man  came  and  told  us.     Aunt  Julia  had 


Amanda  Smith.  387 

gone  out  to  look  tor  some  wood;  so  Betty  and  I  went  with  the 
young  man.  Betty  Tubman  could  understand  the  native  language 
and  talk  it  very  well. 

Just  as  we  got  to  this  little  town  we  found  the  men  and  the 
woman  going  to  the  place  of  execution.  The  town  was  enclosed 
by  a  stick  fence.  The  old  woman  walked  through  the  gate  into 
the  open  space  just  outside. 

She  was  a  woman  not  very  tall,  but  very  black,  beautiful 
limbs,  beautifully  built,  small  feet,  as  a  lady  would  have,  and 
beautiful  hands  and  arms;  her  head  was  shaved  and  something 
black  rubbed  over  it;  and  she  had  a  little  grass  hip  cloth  like  a 
little  skirt  just  around  her  loins. 

As  we  passed  through  the  gate  I  thought  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
who  had  told  us  to  go  forth  bearing  his  reproach.  Outside  the  gate 
there  was  a  kind  of  a  grove,  and  an  open  space  just  beyond  this 
grove.  When  they  got  to  the  place  they  stopped.  There  were 
four  or  five  old  men,  and  two  young  men. 

The  old  men  stood  as  witnesses.  They  set  down  a  mortar. 
One  had  a  calabash,  and  another  carried  the  sassy  wood,  which  is 
a  liquid  decoction.  I  don't  know  as  any  one  has  ever  found  what 
the  composition  of  this  sassy  wood  really  is;  but  I  am  told  it  is  a 
mixture  of  certain  barks.  There  is  a  tree  there  which  grows  very 
tall,  called  the  sass}'  wood  tree;  but  there  is  something  mixed  with 
this  which  is  very  difficult  to  find  out,  and  the  natives  do  not  tell 
what  it  is.  They  say  that  it  is  one  of  their  medicines  that  they 
use  to  carry  out  their  law  for  punishing  witches;  so  you  cannot 
find  out  what  it  is. 

Though  it  was  so  war-m,  I  felt  myself  get  cold  as  I  looked  at 
the  scene.  My  heart  seemed  to  stop  beating.  Oh,  how  I  prayed 
to  God  to  save  that  woman.  We  couldn't  do  anything  to  help  her; 
her  husband  couldn't  help  her;  her  sons  couldn't  help  her;  her 
people  couldn't  help  her.  No,  she  was  accused  of  being  a  witch, 
and  she  must  pay  the  penalty;  and  the  penalty  was  to  drink  the 
sassy  wood.     If  she  throws  it  up  she  has  gained  the  case. 

Sometimes  they  do  throw  it  up,  and  then  they  stand  very  high; 
they  are  raised  to  a  higher  state  of  dignity  than  ever  they  held 
before.  So  I  prayed  for  the  poor,  dear  woman,  that  God  would 
mate  her  throw  it  up. 

I  thought  once  I  could  not  bear  to  see  it;  but  then  I  held 
on.     I  remember  how  I  clutched  the  limb  of  a  tree  near  by  when 


388  Autobiography  of 

she  was  about  to  take  it;  and  I  held  on  and  prayed.  Her  son 
stood  with  us  and  looked  at  his  mother  drink  the  first  dose;  and 
then  ran  away.  The  two  young  men  dipped  this  decoction  out  of 
the  mortar  into  the  calabash,  and  set  it  on  the  ground,  and  then 
she  had  to  pick  it  up  and  drink  it. 

When  they  had  filled  the  basin  she  stood  and  looked  at  it;  and 
then  picked  up  three  pebbles,  and  said  something  like  a  little 
prayer;  then  she  struck  on  the  side  of  the  basin.  I  could  under- 
stand when  she  said  "Niswa,  Oh,  Niswa,"  which  was  to  say 
"Oh,  God."  I  didn't  know  what  else  she  said.  But  she  struck 
one  of  the  stones  on  the  side  of  the  dish,  threw  the  other  in  it, 
and  the  other  one  she  threw  away.  Then  she  drank  the  sassy 
wood.     She  had  two  gallons  to  drink. 

I  turned  to  Betty  and  said:  "What  does  she  say,  Bettj'?" 
And  she  told  me  the  part  that  I  could  not  understand.  The  whole 
prayer  was  this:  "Oh,  Niswa,  if  I  have  made  witch,  and  this 
child  has  died,  when  I  drink  this  sassy  wood  I  must  not  thi.*ow  it 
up.  But  if  I  have  not  made  witch  so  that  this  child  Has  died,  then 
I  must  throw  up  the  sassy  wood." 

So  that  was  what  she  said  all  the  time  she  was  drinking  the 
sassy  wood.  After  she  had  swallowed  the  first  dose  they  dipped  out 
another  basinful.  Oh,  I  trembled.  I  said,  "Lord,  do  make  her 
throw  it  up."  And  just  as  she  was  going  to  stoop  down  to  lift  up 
the  second  basinful,  I  saw  her  give  her  shoulders  a  little  twitch, 
and  open  her  mouth,  and  if  you  ever  saw  a  water  plug  in  the 
street  throw  out  water  —  she  threw  up  that  sassy  wood,  in  a  per- 
fect stream! 

Well,  I  could  have  shouted.  I  said,  "Thank  God."  But  I 
didn't  say  it  very  loud,  for  those  fellows  looked  vengeance,  and  I 
was  afraid  they  would  drive  us  away. 

Then  she  drank  the  second  basinful,  and  then  the  third,  and 
threw  it  up,  and  she  was  victor.  My!  didn't  I  come  home  out  of 
that  place  jumping?     I  cannot  describe  how  I  felt. 

The  next  morning  was  Sunday  morning;  and  about  eight 
o'clock  we  heard  such  singing  and  playing  and  beating  of  drums, 
and  we  wondered  what  in  the  world  was  up.  We  looked  out,  and 
here  came  through  the  town  all  the  women,  and  this  same  woman, 
the  king's  wife,  with  two  escorts  on  either  side,  and  beautifully 
dressed;  she  had  a  handsome  country  cloth,  with  all  sorts  of  colors, 
like  Joseph's  coat,   wrapi^ed  about   her;    she   was    bathed    and 


Amanda  Smith.  380 

greased;  she  had  rings  in  her  ears,  and  bracelets  on  her  wrists; 
her  lingers  were  covered  with  rings,  and  rings  on  her  toes  and 
ankles.     She  looked  beautiful! 

They  have  some  kind  of  grass  they  dye  black,  and  it  looks 
very  much  like  hair;  and  she  had  on  a  head  dress  of  this,  beauti- 
fully curled,  and  she  looked  as  beautiful  as  she  could  be.  Then 
she  had  a  great,  big  umbrella,  red,  and  blue,  and  green  and  yellow 
striped.  Oh,  but  she  was  a  swell!  And  they  took  her  through 
the  town;  they  danced  and  sang;  children,  little  boys  and  girls, 
and  women. 

The  next  day,  on  Monday,  the  men  burned  powder,  as  they 
called  it.  About  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  heard  a  great  gun 
firing.  We  didn't  know  but  war  had  begun.  But  it  was  the 
men's  day  for  their  jollification  over  the  victory  the  king's  wife 
had  gained. 

I  shall  never  forget  how  the  poor  old  king  came  to  me  and 
wanted  me  to  drink  wine. 

"No,  king,"  I  said  to  him,  "you  know  I  am  a  temperance 
woman.     I  no  drink  wine." 

He  seemed  to  be  quite  indignant.  He  said,  "What  is  the 
matter?  When  my  woman  no  die  you  can't  drink  wine  a  little 
bit  with  me  when  my  heart  is  glad  'cause  my  woman  no  die?" 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  king,  I  am  very  glad,  and  I  did  pray,  and 
believe  God  helped  your  woman  so  she  no  die.  But  myself  I  no 
drink  wine." 

Then  as  he  went  to  turn  away,  almost  with  disgust,  I  said  to 
him,  "  I  tell  you,  king,  I  give  you  cup  cocoa.  I  make  it  for  you. 
So  you  drink  cocoa  with  me." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  then  he  smiled. 

So  I  went  to  work  and  made  a  nice  bowl  of  cocoa,  and  put 
sugar  and  condensed  milk  in  it,  and  gave  him  a  hardtack  and 
some  meat,  which  pleased  him  greatly.     So  we  were  friends. 

The  poor  women  of  Africa,  like  those  of  India,  have  a  hard 
time.  As  a  rule,  they  have  all  .the  hard  work  to  do.  They  have 
to  cut  and  carry  all  the  wood,  carry  all  the  water  on  their  heads, 
and  plant  all  the  rice.  The  men  and  boys  cut  and  burn  the  bush, 
with  the  help  of  the  women;  but  sowing  the  rice,  and  planting  the 
casava,  the  women  have  to  do. 

You  will  often  see  a  great,  big  man  walking  ahead,  with  noth- 
ing in  his  hand  but  a  cutlass  (as   they  always  ca:rry   that  or  a 


890  Autobiography  of 

spear),  and  a  woman,  his  wife,  coming  on  behind,  with  a  great 
big  child  on  her  back,  and  a  load  on  her  head. 

No  matter  how  tired  she  is,  her  lord  would  not  think  of  bring- 
ing her  a  jar  of  water,  to  cook  his  supper  with,  or  of  beating  the 
rice;  no,  she  must  do  that.  A  great  big  boy  would  not  bring 
water  for  his  mother;  he  would  say: 

"  Boy  no  tote  water;  that  be  woman's  work." 

If  they  live  with  missionaries,  or  Liberians,  or  anyone  outside 
of  their  own  native  people,  then  they  will  do  such  things;  but  not 
for  one  another. 

The  moment  a  girl  child  is  born,  she  belongs  to  somebody. 
The  father,  who  has  a  son,  makes  it  the  highest  aim  of  his  life  to 
see  that  his  son  has  a  wife;  so  he  settles,  and  begins  to  pay  a 
dowry  for  a  girl  for  his  son.  Sometimes  they  are  but  a  few 
months  old,  when  you  will  see  them  with  their  betrothal  jewels  on. 

If  the  fellow  who  buys  the  girl  is  well  off,  she  will  have  about 
her  little  waist  a  thick  roll  of  beads;  sometimes  five  or  six  strings 
together;  or  she  will  have  bracelets  on  her  little  wrists,  sometimes 
of  brass,  sometimes  only  made  of  common  iron  by  the  native 
blacksmith;  she  will  have  the  same  on  her  ankles,  with  a  little 
tinkle  in  it,  like  a  bell,  so  it  makes  a  noise  when  she  walks. 

As  they  grow  up,  they  have  their  tastes,  and  their  likes  and 
dislikes.  The  marriageable  age  is  from  thirteen  to  fourteen,  and 
sometimes  younger.  All  these  years  the  boy's  father,  or  the  man 
himself,  is  paying  on  the  girl.  That  is  why  it  is  hard  to  get  the 
girls.  It  is  the  girls  that  bring  big  money;  so  the  more  girls  a 
father  has,  that  much  richer  he  is. 

Girls  who  are  bought  with  a  bullock  are  high  toned;  that  is 
about  the  highest  grade.  Then  the  next  is  brass  kettles,  and  cloth 
and  beads.  The  third  is  more  ordinary;  tobacco,  cloth,  powder, 
and  a  little  gin  is  not  objectionable.  To  all  of  these  he  can  put  as 
much  more  as  he  likes;  but  what  I  have  named  are  the  principal 
things  used  in  buying  a  native  girl  for  a  wife. 

Poor  things,  they  are  not  consulted;  they  have  no  choice  in 
the  matter.  If  they  don't  like  the  man,  they  are  obliged  to  go 
with  him  anyway,  no  matter  how  illy  he  may  treat  them;  and 
sometimes  they  are  cruelly  treated.  But  their  own  father  could 
not  protect  them.  The  laws  in  this  are  very  strict.  A  man's  wife 
is  his  wife,  and  no  one  dare  interfere. 

One  morning  at  Sinoe,  about  six  o'clock  —  I  generally  got  up 


Frances,  My  Native  Bassa  Gikl. 


Amanda  Smith.  391 

at  that  timi',  and  ofU'ii  earlior,  especially  when  washing;  five  or 
six  o'clock  in  the  morning  was  the  most  beautiful  part  of  the  day 
in  Africa,  especially  if  one  had  a  big  day's  washing  or  ironing  to 
do,  or  anything  else;  it  is  very  jDleasant  and  cool  then,  but  as  the 
sun  rises  it  gets  stronger,  until  sometimes  it  is  almost  unbearable — 
I  heard  someone  crying  most  piteously  in  the  street,  and  there 
seemed  to  be  a  number  of  voices  shouting  and  talking;  but  mingled 
with  all  I  heard  this  deep,  piteous  crying. 

I  went  and  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  there  v/as  a  poor 
girl,  I  suppose  about  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  as  pretty 
a  colored  girl  as  I  ever  saw;  she  had  a  dark  brown  skin,  was  of 
medium  size,  and  beautifully  formed;  her  hair  was  done  up  pret- 
tily, as  they  can  do  it,  and  her  hands  and  arms  were  as  plump  and 
as  delicately  shaped  as  if  she  had  been  born  a  queen. 

There  were  five  or  six  men,  and  the  same  number  cf  boys. 
The  old  man  was  as  ugly  as  a  monkey;  he  was  her  husband;  he 
had  hold  of  her  arm,  and  was  jerking  her  along,  and  beating  her: 
then  the  boys  would  run  up  and  give  her  a  slap  on  her  bare 
shoulders,  which  you  could  hear  quite  plainly. 

I  ran  down  stairs  and  called  Mr.  R.,  and  begged  him  to  go 
and  see  if  he  could  do  anything  for  the  poor  thing.  He  said  it  was 
a  woman  palaver,  he  supposed,  and  that  is  the  biggest  kind  of  a 
palaver  in  Africa,  and  nobody  can  help  settle  them,  but  them- 
selves.    However,  I  begged  him  so  hard  that  he  went. 

He  came  back  in  about  an  hour,  and  said  she  was  the  wife  of 
this  horrid,  old  man,  and  she  had  run  away  from  him  because  he 
had  beaten  her,  and  had  been  gone  several  weeks;  and  these  other 
men  had  found  her,  and  had  held  her  for  the  old  man,  but  she  did 
not  want  to  go  to  him. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "can't  anything  be  done  to  help  her?  " 

"No,"  he  said,  "  there  is  only  one  thing;  if  some  one  of  these 
younger  men  would  coax  the  old  man  to  sell  her,  and  he  consented 
and  they  paid  him  a  good  dowry,  they  could  have  her.  But  if 
the  old  man  was  contrary,  and  should  refuse,  he  would  torture 
her  to  death  right  in  the  presence  of  her  own  father,  and  he  could 
not  help  her." 

But  he  said  the  old  man  was  rather  good  natured,  and  he 
thought  one  of  these  young  fellows  would  buy  her. 

Sometimes  these  old  fellows  do  these  tricks  to  get  money.  I 
really  hope  they  did  buy  her. 


393  AuTOBiOGRArHY  OF  Amanda  SMfrH. 

Now  that  is  the  reason  it  is  so  much  better  for  the  missionary 
to  buy  the  girls,  at  the  price  of  a  bullock,  which  is  twenty  or 
twenty-five  dollars;  that  is  the  price  of  a  girl.  And  they  are  very 
honorable  in  this.  If  a  girl  has  been  bought  by  a  missionary,  she 
is  free  as  long  as  she  lives;  no  one  will  ever  claim  her;  but  if  other- 
wise, she  can  be  claimed  years  after,  by  anyone  of  her  people  who 
chooses  to  make  trouble.  Even  if  she  was  married  and  settled  it 
would  not  save  her,  if  she  could  not  say  she  was  bought. 

I  was  not  asked  to  pay  anything  for  my  Frances,  a  Bassa  girl, 
though  that  was  their  custom.  Her  father  gave  her  to  me,  and 
so  did  Mrs.  Brown,  to  whom  he  had  first  given  her,  without  any 
dowry.  Her  mother  died,  and  I  told  Mr.  Brown  if  her  people 
wanted  her,  they  must  pay  me  two  bullocks;  for  it"  had  cost  me 
that  with  the  care  and  trouble  I  had  had  with  her.  After  that  I 
never  heard  any  more  about  it. 

The  boys  are  free;  no  dowry  for  them.  They  can  go  and  live 
with  missionaries,  marry  and  settle,  just  as  they  like. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

now  I  CAME  TO  TAKE  LITTLE  BOB  —  TEACHING  HIM  TO  READ  — 
HIS  CONVERSION — SOME  OP  HIS  TRIALS,  AND  HOW  HE  MET 
THEM  —  BOB   GOES  TO   SCHOOL. 

When  I  first  went  to  Africa  I  saw  there  was  much  to  do,  and 
I  felt  I  could  do  but  little.  At  that  time  there  was  no  real  med- 
ical doctor  within  twenty  or  thirty  miles  of  Monrovia.  Of  course 
there  were  plenty  of  patent  medicines  to  be  had,  such  as  pills  and 
quinine,  and  other  helps.  And  then  the  natives  helped  in  fever 
cases,  and  all  kinds  of  sickness,  by  the  use  of  herbs,  which,  when 
skillfully  administered,  as  many  know  how  to  do,  in  my  opinion 
are  much  better  than  doctors'  medicines,  except  quinine. 

But  I  had  never  been  where  a  doctor  could  not  be  called  in  a 
case  of  emergency.  • 

So  I  thought  if  I  could  get  a  nice  little  boy  I  would  train  him 
for  a  missionary,  and  a  doctor  as  well.  I  saw  how  he  might  do 
much  good.  So  I  felt  led  to  pray,  and  ask  the  Lord  to  open  the 
way  that  I  might  get  a  boy. 

I  saw  three  boys  that  T  liked.  They  lived  in  dilferent  Liber- 
ian  families. 

One  was  the  son  of  a  king,  who  lived  with  Mrs.  Crusoe  at 
Hartford.     He  was  a  nice  lad,  and  I  would  have  liked  to  have  him. 

Another  was  at  Edina,  Bassa.     He  lived  with  Mrs.  Moore. 

The  other  lived  with  Mrs.  Horris,  at  Lower  Buchanan,  in 
Bassa. 

They  were  very  bright,  smart  boys,  and  only  needed  a  little 
help,  as  1  thought.  But  none  of  these  parties  would  consent  to  my 
taking  them.  They  wanted  I  should  take  a  Liberian.  But  I  did 
not  feel  led  just  that  way,  and  I  plead  with  them  for  one  of  the 
boys.  But  I  could  not  get  them;  so  then  I  gave  it  up.  I  thought 
the  Lord  knew  my  hea-rt.  and  what  I  wanted  to  do  was  for  His 
glory  only. 

(393) 


394  Autobiography  of 

In  1887,  while  at  Cape  Paimas,  though  I  had  given  up  all  hope 
or  desire  of  getting  a  boy,  little  Bob  and  a  little  playmate  of  his 
used  to  come  to  Mrs.  Harmon's.  They  were  very  little  fellows, 
and  as  I  did  my  own  housekeeping,  and  so  often  had  bits  of  food 
left,  I  would  call  these  children  and  give  them  to  them.  My! 
they  were  pleased;  and  I  became  very  fond  of  them,  and  often 
would  talk  to  them  as  best  I  could.  I  could  not  understand  them 
so  well  as  they  could  understand  mo.  Ma  Harmon  could  talk 
the  Gredebo  language  just  like  a  native,  and  they  almost  idolized 
Mr.  Harmon.  They  knew  they  lost  a  true  friend  when  he  was  taken. 

Ma  Harmon  had  told  these  children  that  they  must  always 
speak  to  me;  say  "Good  morning,  Mammj." 

So  one  day  I  was  going  downtown,  and  little  Bob  and  his 
friend  were  hanging  on  the  gate  as  I  passed.  When  they  saw  me 
coming  they  began  shouting,  "Good  morning,  Mammy!  Good 
morning.  Mammy!" 

I  went  up  and  put  my  hand  on  Bob's  head.  I  always  admired 
him  so  much;  he  was  so  black,  and  his  skin  was  so  soft  and 
smooth,  like  a  kid  glove. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "  are  you  fine  boy  to-day? '' 

"Yes." 

He  understood  what  I  said. 

"  True,  you  be  fine  too  much,"  I  said. 

To  a  native  child  that  means  everything  we  mean  when  we 
say,  "  You  are  a  good  boy,"  or  a  "  nice  boy." 

My!  they  were  so  pleased.  I  had  noticed,  as  I  was  passing,  a 
man  and  woman  who  stood  talking  together;  and  when  I  had  gone 
a  few  steps  away  the  man  called  out,  "  Mammy!" 

I  turned,  and  he  said,  "  Mammy,"  (for  you  must  know  that  all 
foreigners  and  Liberians  are  called  'Mammy'  and  '  Daddy;' and 
in  the  sense  it  is  used  in  America,  one  would  feel  like  drawing  up 
their  shoulders  sometimes;  but  when  the  natives  use  it,  it  is  as 
we  would  use  'Mr.'  and  Mrs.'),  "  I  wantj-ou  to  take  that  pick'nand 
teach  him  God  palavar,"  pointing  to  little  Bob.  "Myself,  I  be 
fool;  I  no  sabe  God.  I  don't  want  my  pick'n  to  be  fool  all  same 
like  myself." 

"  Jack, "  I  said,  "  is  that  .your  pick'n  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  For  true?     You  be  his  daddy?  " 

"Yes.     I  want  you  to  take  him;  all  that  place  you  live  to 


Amanda  Smith.  395 

come  when  you  catch  Enghind  and  big  America,  you  teach  him, 
so  he  can  sabe  God  proper.'' 

"Well,  Jack,"  I  said,  "  myself  don't  be  well  just  now;  dem 
fever  humbug  me  too  much.  I  be  weak  plenty.  So  when  dat 
steamer  live  to  catch  here,  with  Bishop  Taylor's  missionaries, 
myself  I  go  down  the  coast  a  little  bit.  Jack,  why  not  give  him 
to  some  of  the  Liberian  people?     He  will  teach  him." 

"  No,  Mammy,"  he  said,  "if  you  lef  him  on  his  hand,  he  no 
sabe  nothing." 

And,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  there  was  much  more  truth  than 
poetry  in  this  statement. 

This  was  on  Tuesday;  and  on  Saturday  the  looked  for  steamer 
arrived,  with  Bishop  Taylor's  second  party  of  thirteen  or  more 
missionaries  for  the  Congo. 

I  had  been  down  with  fever  for  three  or  four  days,  and  was 
very  weak.  I  hardly  knew  how  to  get  ready.  But  the  kind 
friends  came  in,  and  my  old  standby,  Betty  Tubman,  and  Rosetta 
Cole,  took  hold  and  helped  me  get  my  things  together;  and  the 
dear  old  Bishop,  God  bless  him,  got  hold  of  my  trunk  and  helped 
out  with  it,  then  rolled  up  my  things  in  the  rug  and  carried  them 
down,  and  I  can  hear  him  say  now: 

' '  Come  on,  Amanda. ' ' 

Oh!  but  wasn't  I  weak!  He  saw  and  knew  it,  and  I  could  see 
the  great  sympathy  in  his  eyes.  But,  Oh!  he  did  not  know  how 
much  he  helped  me  when  he  went  ahead  and  said,  "  Now  come  on, 
Amanda."  I  said,  "  Lord,  help  me."  And  He  did,  and  we 
reached  the  boat.  They  helped  me  in,  and  we  were  soon  off  to 
the  steamer. 

Now  aboard  the  steamer.  Thank  God.  How  nice  to  see  a 
lot  of  home  folks,  and  all  so  happy.  I  seemed  to  gather  strength. 
We  had  a  pleasant  time. 

I  was  away  for  months,  and  returned  with  but  little  gained, 
if  any;  for  my  trip  of  seven  days  from  Calabar  to  Cape  Palmas 
was  so  sad  that  whatever  I  had  gained  I  lost,  and  was  so  weak  I 
could  scarcely  get  out  of  the  boat. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "it  is  no  use;  I  see  I  have  got  to  go  home." 

For  three  years  I  had  been  planning  and  hoping,  but  could 
not  seem  to  get  clear  light  from  above,  and  I  was  so  sure  God 
Himself  had  sent  me  to  Africa  that  I  felt  I  dare  not  leave  without 
His  permission;  although  the  doctors  at  Lasros  and  old  Calabar 


P.Of)  Autobiography  of 

both  said  that  I  should  come  home.  So  T  kept  my  few  things 
packed  so  as  to  be  ready  for  a  homeward  steamer  that  would  stop 
at  Cape  Palmas  and  at  Monrovia,  for  I  must  stop  there  for  my 
little  girl,  Frances. 

I  waited  one  week  and  no  steamer  stopped.  Two  weeks, 
three  weeks,  and  no  homeward  steamer  stopped.  How  tiresome. 
But  then,  what  will  you  do?  and  what  could  you  do? 

I  worked  away,  as  usual,  doing  all  I  could  by  day  and  night. 
The  latter  part  of  the  third  week  brought  a  letter,  by  an  outward 
bound  steamer,  to  Brother  Pratt,  Bishop  Taylor's  agent,  that 
thirteen  missionaries  would  be  out  soon,  giving  the  date  that  they 
would  leave  Liverpool;  and  the  Bishop  had  asked  me  to  help 
Brother  Pratt  in  looking  after  the  missionaries  when  they  arrived. 
Brother  Pratt  came  to  me  and  said; 

"Now,  Ma,  you  can't  go.  These  missionaries  are  coming,  and 
the  Bishop  said  he  wanted  you  to  help  get  them  settled." 

So  I  felt  that  delay  to  me  was  of  the  Lord,  though  I  seemed  to 
be  of  so  little  use.  But,  though  I  say  it  myself,  I  really  don't 
know  what  Brother  Pratt  or  the  missionaries  would  have  done  if 
it  had  not  been  for  the  little  help  I  was  able  to  give;  and  this,  I 
believe,  dear  Miss  Whitfield  and  Miss  McNeil  would  say,  too. 

"Well,"  I  said  to  Brother  Pratt,  "all  right;  I'm  in  for  it." 

So  we  went  to  planning  as  best  we  could.  Jack  was  not  home 
when  we  first  got  back.  So  I  thought  it  was  all  over  about  taking 
the  child.     But  one  day  I  met  Jack  in  the  street, 

"Mammy,"  he  said,  "howdy;  I  glad  for  see  you.  You  be 
well  now." 

"  Thank  you.  Jack,  but  myself  don't  be  well.  Weak,  weak, 
all  time." 

"Mammy,  I  be  sorry  for  you.     You  goin'  take  that  pick'n?" 

"Well,  Jack,  that  boy  be  very  small  boy;  he  live  to  give  some- 
body plenty  trouble;  small  boy,  so." 

So  I  spoke  to  him  in  what  we  call  broken  English.  He  could 
speak  ifc  well,  and  understand  it  very  well  if  you  would  break  it  up. 

"You  see.  Jack,  if  I  take  him  I  must  be  all  same  as  his 
mammy.  All  same  like  if  I  born  him  myself.  My  heart  must  be 
big  like  his  own  mammy's  heart;  and  this  fevej*  bother  me  all 
time;  so  I  am  weak." 

"Well,"  he  saj(J,  with  a  sad  face,  '•  Mammy  j'pu  pyoinised  tQ 
take  him." 


B05. 


Amanda  Smith.  av7 

♦♦Well,  Jack,  I  go  home;  I  look  my  head;  then  I  will  speak  to 
God,  and  if  my  heart  lay  down  1  will  call  you." 

So  he  said  "all  right,"  and  went.  Several  times  he  came  to 
see  me  to  see  if  I  had  got  light. 

'♦  No,  not  yet." 

He  and  his  wife  came,  and  I  still  said  *♦  No." 

So  I  said  one  night,  "  Now,  Lord,  this  must  be  settled.  I 
must  say  something  to  these  people  when  they  come  again." 

Then  I  prayed,  and  asked  the  Lord  to  show  me  His  will  in  the 
matter.  "Oh!  Lord,  Thou  knowest  I  have  no  money  to  support 
this  child  if  I  take  him;  and  I  don't  want  to  take  the  care  and  re- 
sponsibility of  this  child,  with  nothing  to  help  myself,  or  him. 
But  if  Thou  dost  want  me  to  take  him,  and  wilt  make  it  clear  that 
it  is  Thy  will,  and  T  should  do  it,  it  will  be  all  right;  and  I  know 
Thou  wilt  help  me  to  take  care  of  him.  Now,  Lord,  make  it  clear 
what  I  must  do.     I  will  wait  until  Thou  dost  speak  to  me." 

Then  a  few  moments'  quiet,  as  I  knelt  before  Him.  And  these 
words  came  to  me,  clear: 

"  Is  not  Ethiopia  stretching  out  her  hands  to  God?" 

♦'Yes,  Lord." 

"Cannot  you  help  a  little?** 

"  Lord,  Thou  knowest  I  am  very  weak,  and  I  don't  know  what 

I  can  do." 

Then  these  words  came  clear  and  distinct:  "You  do  what 
you  can,  and  where  you  leave  off,  God  will  raise  up  somebody  to 
do  the  rest." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "  that  is  reasonable,  and  I  will  trust  the  Lord, 
and  take  the  child,  and  do  the  best  I  can." 

In  a  few  days  Jack  and  wife,  Bob's  own  mother,  came,  and 
brought  Bob;  and  they  both  signed  the  agreement,  relinquishing 
all  claims.     Bishop  Taylor  and  Betty  Tubman  were  witnesses. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  agreement: 

Cape  Palmas,  February  16,  1888. 

We,  Jack  Smart  or  Na  we,  his  father,  and  We  a  de,  his  mother, 
do  give  our  son.  Bob,  to  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith  to  raise  and  educate 
ag  her  own  child.  And  we  relinquish  all  claim  to  him  from  this 
time  forth.  Jack  Smart  (his  X  mark). 

We  a  de  (her  X  mark). 
Wm.  Taylor,  Bishop.  )  ^.. 
Elizabeth  Tubman,    j      ^  "^^ 


398  Autobiography  of 

Now  there  was  Bob;  a  little,  naked  heathen,  but  he  was  as 
happy  as  a  prince. 

His  mother  had  given  him  his  bath  in  the  river;  so  I  gave  him 
a  nice  red  kerchief  to  put  on  around  his  loins,  and  he  was  dressed! 
A  day  or  two  more,  and  I  had  made  his  first  pants,  out  of  a  half 
yard  of  calico. 

When  he  got  them  on,  oh!  if  you  had  seen  him  strut!  He  was 
the  proudest  little  darkey  that  ever  got  into  pants,  and  calico  at 
that! 

Next  thing  was  his  lesson.  Mrs.  Margaret  Davis,  Foxrock, 
my  ever  faithful,  untiring  friend,  had  sent  me  a  box,  and  in  it 
were  some  A,  B,  C  cards,  and  several  little  primers. 

1  had  given  them  all  away  but  one  little  primer,  and  one  card; 
so  I  must  begin  my  work  at  once;  for  I  was  so  miserable  I  thought 
I  could  not  live  long,  and  the  little  I  could  do,  I  must  do  quickly. 
I  i^rayed  the  Lord  to  help  me,  and  bless  Bob,  and  help  him  to  learn 
quickly.  I  thought  if  I  could  get  him  so  he  could  read  the  Bible 
for  himself,  that  was  about  all  I  could  hope  to  do. 

In  two  weeks  he  could  say  his  A,  B,  C's,  and  knew  every  letter. 

One  day  he  got  a  little  stubborn,  and  did  not  want  to  say  his 
lesson.  I  coaxed  him,  and  reasoned,  but  he  had  "  spottie  "  on  him; 
he  would  not  learn.  I  saw  that  would  not  help  any.  I  thought, 
"Well,  I  cannot  [^ive  it  up  now;  so  I  must  doctor  him  alittlcbit." 
So  I  went  out  and  got  a  little  switch;  when  he  saw  it  he  said; 

"Oh!  I  can  learn;  I  can  say  it." 

"  All  right,"  I  said;  so  he  did;  and  his  lesson  was  all  right. 

Now  the  next.  I  had  no  little  spelling  primers,  nor  could  any* 
thing  of  the  kind  have  been  got  in  the  republic  anywhere,  at  that 
time,  whatever  there  may  be  now.  The  little  primer  Mrs.  Davis 
had  sent  was  good,   large  reading,  only.     The  first  lesson  began: 

"  God  is  good.     He  gives  us  our  food  ever}^  day." 

Now  Bob  knew  ever%^  letter  when  he  saw  it;  so  I  had  him  use 
this  book  for  a  spelling  book  and  a  reader.  After  he  would  spell 
the  word  out,  "  G-o-d,  i-s,  g-o-o-d,  h-e,"  etc.,  I  would  have  him 
stand  upon  the  floor,  and  I  would  give  it  out,  "God,"  he  would 
spell;  "is,"  "good,"  and  so  on. 

Finally,  I  told  him  he  must  learn  to  read.  I  would  start  off 
mjself  to  show  him  what  I  meant;  then  I  would  say,  "Now, 
goon." 

He  would  begin,  "  G-0-" 


Amanda  Smith.  399 

"No,  go  on." 

**G-o-" 

•♦No." 

"God." 

"Ah!  that's  right." 

"I-s." 

"No." 

"I-s." 

"No." 

"Is,"  he  would  read. 

"Ah!  that's  right.     Goon." 

I  felt  he  caught  the  idea  of  what  it  was  to  read.  And  so  he 
went  on.  And  in  six  months  he  had  learned  to  read  a  little,  and 
spell  most  of  the  words,  though  he  did  not  know  what  they  all 
meant;  but  I  stuck  to  him,  and  prayed  the  Lord  to  help  him. 

I  do  not  know  how  old  he  was  when  I  took  him,  as  the  natives 
do  not  keep  dates,  as  we  do.  The  only  thing  I  had  to  go  by  was 
his  teeth;  a  child  is  about  six  years  old  when  he  cuts  his  back 
teeth;  he  was  just  cutting  his  back  teeth  when  I  took  him,  so  I 
th')ught  he  was  about  six  years  old. 

He  was  short,  and  fat,  and  very  strong.  He  had  learned 
English  remarkably  fast,  so  that  months  before  I  brought  him  to 
England  he  had  g.)t  so  he  could  read  in  the  Testament,  and,  at 
family  prayers  every  morning,  he  and  I  would  read  verse  about; 
anl  he  could  read  almost  as  well  as  I  could  in  the  Testament  when 
I  brought  him  to  England. 

The  people  were  astonished.  They  could  hardly  believe  that  a 
lit'.le  while  before,  he  was  a  little,  raw,  naked  heathen,  and  could 
speak  but  two  words  of  English  when  I  took  him:  "Good  morn- 
ing. Mammy,"  and  "Drink  water." 

When  he  would  want  a  drink  he  would  take  hold  of  my  dress, 
and  lead  me  where  he  could  see  the  pitcher  or  pail  of  water,  then 
he  would  say,  "Mammy,  drink  water." 

Now,  when  all  is  considered,  I  don't  believe  there  is  a  child  in 
this  country,  born  of  Christian  parents,  that  would  have  shown  a 
capability  beyond  that  child's.  It  is  nonsense  to  say  that  a  native 
African  is  not  capable  of  learning. 

It  was  in  March,  1891.  I  had  been  invited  to  Folkston, 
England,  to  hold  a  mission.  On  my  way  from  Southport  to  Folks- 
ton,  we  spent  a  day  or  two  in  London,  with  Mrs.  Dr   Bordman, 


400  Autobiography  of 

who  had  arranged  a  nice  reception  for  us  at  her  home,  Highbry, 
London.  She  had  invited  to  meet  us,  Mrs.  Hannah  Smith,  Mrs. 
Mark  Guy  Pierce,  and  a  number  of  other  friends.  We  had  a 
blessed  time  of  fellowship,  and  then  we  passed  on  to  Folkston. 

I  had  arranged  in  April  for  Bob  to  go  to  school  at  Southport. 
I  had  become  very  much  attached  to  him,  so  I  felt  I  hardly  knew 
how  to  let  him  go  away  from  me',  and  yet,  for  his  good,  I  knew  I 
must  do  so.  But  I  was  anxious  that  he  should  become  converted. 
T  was  very  much  burdened  for  him.  I  had  taught  him  all  about 
the  way,  simply  as  I  could,  and  he  and  I  often  prayed  together. 
Dear  little  fellow! 

Sometimes  when  T  would  be  so  weak,  when  we  would  get  down 
to  pray,  he  would  pray  for  me  so  earnestly,  and  say.  "Oh!  God, 
bless  my  ma.  Make  her  well,  so  she  can  be  strong,  so  she  can  walk 
about." 

I  used  to  suffer  a  great  deal  with  my  back.  So  he  would  say, 
"Oh!  Lord,  oh!  God,  make  my  ma's  back  well." 

And  then  he  loved  to  hear  Bible  stories.  He  would  sit  for 
hours  and  listen  to  anything  you  would  say  about  Jesus. 

Before  he  could  speak  English  at  all,  when  at  family  prayer, 
he  seemed  to  have  such  a  love  for  the  words  "God,"  and  "Jesus." 
He  used  to  kneel  beside  me  and  those  two  words  were-all  he  could 
say  in  English.  So,  as  we  would  kneel  down,  while  someone  would 
be  praying,  he  would  pound  on  the  chair  with  his  little  hand,  and 
say,  "Oh!  God.  Oh!  Jesus.  Oh!  God.  Oh!  Jesus."  1  could  not 
uiMierstand  what  else  he  said,  but  there  was  something  religious 
in  him. 

One  night  T  got  greatly  burdened  for  him,  while  at  Folkston. 
I  slept  very  little  all  night.  Oh,  how  I  prayed  that  God  would 
save  him. 

Next  morning,  at  family  prayers,  just  he  and  I,  w,'  read  our 
chapter  over,  and  I  preached  a  little  sermon  to  Bob,  about  ;.n  hour 
and  a  half  long.  I  read,  and  explained,  and  illustrated,  by  what 
I  knew  he  could  understand,  things  he  knew  of  in  Africa.  I 
took  my  time  to  explain  it,  so  he  could  give  it  back  to  me  in  cor- 
rect answers  to  my  questions,  so  that  I  knew  he  had  clearly  in  his 
mind  what  I  tried  to  teach. 

"Now,  Bob,"  I  said  to  him,  "you  know  that  T  liave  always 
told  you  that  if  you  ask  Jesus  to  do  anything  for  you,  you  must 
believe  He  will  do  it.'* 


Amanda  Smith.  401 

•♦Yes,"  he  said. 

•'  You  know  I  never  told  you  a  lie,  did  I?  " 

'*No." 

"When  I  told  you  I  was  going  to  do  something,  I  always  did 

it,  didn't  I?" 
"Yes." 

"  Well,  just  so  you  must  believe  Jesus.  When  you  ask  Him  to 
make  your  heart  good,  believe  that  He  will  do  it,  because  He  loves 
you,  and  wants  you  to  be  good.  So  now  He  can  give  you  a  new 
heart  this  morning,  if  you  will  just  tell  Him  what  you  want,  and 
just  believe  Him,  and  trust  Him.  Now,  we  will  just  kneel 
down,  and  you  pray  for  yourself.  Tell  Jesus  just  what  you  want. 
Tell  Him  in  your  own  way,  just  the  best  you  know  how." 

So  we  knelt  down.  Dear,  little  Bob!  He  waited  for  a  few 
moments,  thoughtfully  and  sincerely,  and  then  he  began  to  pray. 
He  said; 

"Oh!  God,  I  cgme  to  you.  I  beg  you  to  make  my  heart  good. 
Take  all  the  bad  out  of  my  heart,  so  I  won't  lie;  so  I  won't  steal. 
Oh!  God,  put  your  good  Spirit  in  my  heart,  so  I  can  always  obey 
my  ma;  so  I  can  be  good.  I  beg  you,  Jesus.  I  will  believe  you. 
Help  me.     For  Jesus'  sake.     Amen." 

I  felt  sure  God  heard  that  little  prayer,  for  my  heart  went 
with  it;  and  when  Bob  stopped  praying,  T  took  hold  of  God.  Oh, 
how  I  prayed,  and  how  I  believed.  And  I  claimed  Bob's  conver- 
sion with  him,  that  God  had  done  what  we  asked  Him.  I  felt 
peace  in  my  heart,  and  assurance,  and  I  rose  up  and  we  sang. 
Praise  God! 

This  was  on  Friday  morning.  In  the  afternoon  I  was  invited 
to  take  a  service  at  the  Rev.  Mr.  Toke's  church.  He  was  an  Epis- 
copalian clergyman,  and  a  grand  man  of  God,  and  was  what  they 
call  in  England  "a  Low  Churchman." 

We  had  a  wonderful  meeting  that  afternoon.  God  gave  me 
great  liberty  in  speaking,  from  the  12th  chapter  of  Romans.  A 
number  of  people  came  to  me  at  the  close,  and  told  me  that  they 
had  received  help,  and  blessing,  and  light,  as  they  never  had 
before.     To  God  be  the  glory. 

On  our  way  home  we  met  a  crowd  of  six  or  seven  little  boys, 
and  they  began  to  call  out  to  Bob: 

"Oh,  there  goes  a  little  black  boy." 

And  I  began  to  pity  Bob  so,  because  I  knew  he  was  sensitive, 


402  Autobiography  op 

and  I  Knew  how  he  hated  to  be  looked  at,  and  hear  such  remarks 
made.  Of  course  he  was  unaccustomed  to  it.  When  in  London,  if 
he  would  be  looking  out  of  a  window,  and  boys  would  come  by  and 
make  remarks,  he  would  get  down  on  his  knees  to  hide  from  them. 

I  felt  very  sorry  for  him,  and  would  tell  him  they  were  not 
accustomed  to  seeing  little  black  boys.  I  was  very  weak,  and 
they  were  taking  me  to  my  lodgings  in  a  perambulator;  and  when 
I  heard  the  boys  call  out  to  Bob,  I  began  to  say:  "There,  now, 
poor  Bob^"     So  I  said: 

"Boys,  boys;  that  little  boy's  name  is  Bob." 

"Oh,  Bob,  hello,"  they  said;  "Hello,  Bob;  how  do  you  do?" 

Just  then  little  Bob  came  running  up  to  me,  and  said  to  me; 

"Oh,  ma,  the  boys  like  to  look  at  me,  don't  they?" 

"  Yes,  they  are  not  accustomed  to  seeing  little  black  boys,  you 
know.     There  are  not  many  in  this  country." 

"Well,"  he  said,  "I  don't  mind  if  they  do  look  at  me  now; 
since  I  told  Jesus  this  morning,  and  he  made  my  heart  good,  I 
don't  care  if  they  do  look  at  me  now." 

His  face  was  beaming  with  delight;  and  I  said:  "  I  know  Bob 
is  changed.  The  old  things  have  passed  away,  and  the  things 
that  he  hated,  he  has  begun  to  love." 

And  the  word  from  him  in  England  now  is,  that  he  is  a  good 
boy,  and  trying  to  be  a  Christian.  Why  should  it  be  thought  a 
thing  incredible,  that  God  should  convert  a  little  heathen  child? 
Amen. 

One  day,  while  in  Liverpool,  Bob  and  I  started  down  street  to 
take  a  little  walk.  Bob  was  carrying  my  handbag,  and  I  walked 
slowly,  and  he  was  behind  me.  As  we  were  going  on,  we  met  a 
crowd  of  rather  rough  boys,  and  they  hallooed  out: 

"  Look  at  the  darkey!  Look  at  the  darkey!  " 

And  by  and  by  I  heard  one  of  them  say,  as  though  he  was 
going  to  strike  somebody,  though  I  didn't  look  around: 

"  Look  out!  I'll  knock  your  head  off." 

I  knew  Bob  had  done  something;  shook  his  fist  at  him,  or 
made  a  face  at  him.  It  was  in  him,  and  he  was  full  of  pluck. 
After  awhile  I  turned  around,  and,  oh!  such  a  face  as  Bob  had  on 
him;  long,  and  sour.     So  I  said  to  him: 

"Bob,  what's  the  matter?" 

He  was  very  pouty.  I  stood  still  till  he  came  up  to  me.  The» 
I  said  to  him:  "  What  ails  you? " 


Amanda  Smith.  403 

"Ma,  didn't  you  hear  what  those  boys  said?** 

**  Yes;  didn't  they  say  it  to  me,  too?  " 

*'  Yes,  ma'am." 

•'Did  I  say  anything  to  them?" 

"No,  ma'am." 

But  still  he  was  frowny  and  sulky.  Then  I  said  to  him:  "Bob. 
did  you  sleep  in  bed  last  night?  "  For  he  always  slept  in  the  bed 
with  me,  and  it  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  to  keep  him  covered, 
for  he  would  kick  the  covers  off,  and  I  was  afraid  he  would  freeze. 

•'  Y"es,  ma'am." 

"  Did  you  have  your  breakfast  this  morning?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Have  you  got  your  boots  on  ? " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  he  said,  looking  down  at  his  feet. 

"  Have  you  got  your  pants  on?  " 

"Y^es,  ma'am." 

"  Have  you  got  j^our  coat  ou?  " 

"Y^es,  ma'am." 

"  Have  you  got  your  cap  on?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"Did  what  those  boys  said  to  you  hurt  you?" 

"No,  ma'am." 

"Well,  what  is  it?  Y'ou  have  had  your  breakfast,  and  you  have 
your  boots  on,  and  your  pants  on,  and  your  coat  on,  and  your  cap 
on,  and  you  are  not  hurt.     What  is  the  matter?  " 

So  he  saw  the  point,  that  nothing  the  boys  said  to  him  had 
done  him  any  harm.     He  smiled,  and  we  went  on. 

Now  this  was  before  he  was  converted ;  and  so  the  change,  i  n  my 
mind,  when  he  was  converted  was  very  clear.  Praise  the  Lord,  for 
He  is  good,  and  His  mercy  endureth  forever.     Amen.     Amen. 

The  question  has  often  been  asked  me,  how  I  got  Bob  in 
.school.     This,  too,  was  the  Lord's  doings. 

We  had  been  at  Southport,  and  T  had  an  engagement  in  Liver- 
pool, and  was  to  leave  by  a  certain  train.  My  friend,  Mrs.  Stavely, 
was  going  to  the  station  with  us,  and  I  mistoDk  the  time.  She 
had  gone  out  for  a  few  moments,  and  said  she  would  be  back  in 
time  to  go  with  us  to  the  station.  But  I  got  a  little  nervous,  and 
felt  I  must  not  miss  that  train;  the  carriage  was  at  the  door,  and 
I  said:  "I  will  just  get  into  the  carriage,  and  drive  onto  the 
station;  I  am  so  afraid  I  will  be  late."    So  off  we  went. 


404  Autobiography  op 

r  sent  the  carriage  back  immediately,  but  when  1  got  there  I 
found  I  was  twenty  minutes  too  ea/ly:  and  I  thought  to  myself,  as 
I  sat  in  the  waiting-room,  "What  does  this  mean?"  What  will 
Mrs.  Stavely  think  of  me  for  driving  off  in  the  carriage  as  I  did? 
Oh,  dear,  I'm  so  sorry.  But  what  does  it  all  mean?  "  Then  I  said, 
"  Lord,  there  is  some  lesson  in  this;  teach  me  what  it  is." 

A  few  minutes  later  alady  came  in,  and  looking  at  me.  she 
said: 

"  This  is  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith,  is  it  not?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"My  daughters  have  been  to  your  meetings,  and  they  enjoyed 
them  so  much.  I  would  like  to  have  attended  myself;  but  other 
duties  have  pressed  me  so,  I  was  not  able  to  come;  but  my  daugh- 
ters have  enjoyed  them."  Then  turning,  she  said  to  me,  as  she 
looked  at  Bob,  "  Is  that  your  little  boy?" 

"Yes,  madam." 

"W^hat  are  you  going  to  do  with  him?  Why  don't  you  put 
him  into  school?" 

"I  have  been  looking  to  the  Lord,  but  no  place  has  opened  up 
yet.     I  would  like  to  get  him  into  a  good  school  somewhere." 

"  I  will  tell  you  of  an  excellent  school,  right  here  in  Southport;" 
she  said,  "  a  good  Christian  school  where  he  will  have  good  atten- 
tion and  care;  just  as  good  as  if  you  were  with  him  yourself:  and 
you  might  go  thousands  of  miles  away,  and  leave  him,  safely;  and 
they  have  had  several  of  your  people  from  the  West  Indies,  and 
they  understand  how  to  care  for  them,  coming  from  those  warm 
climates." 

I  thanked  her  very  kindly,  and  she  gave  me  the  lady's  name, 
and  said,  "I  will  go  and  see  her  about  it,  and  L  u  you  know.  I 
will  go  at  once." 

"I  am  going  to  Liverpool,"  I  replied,  and  gave  her  my 
address,  where  she  could  write  me.  And  sure  enough,  she  did  so; 
and  so  in  April  I  took  Bob  to  Miss  Hobbs'  school,  at  Southport, 
where  he  has  been  ever  since. 

They  made  a  reduction  for  me,  as  I  was  a  missionary,  from 
their  regular  terms,  so  as  to  make  it  as  easy  as  possible  for  me, 
which  is  another  token  of  God's  loving  kindness. 

I  went  on  paying  for  about  six  months;  then  I  got  a  letter 
from  a  friend,  saying  I  needn't  send  any  more  money  for  Bob;  it 
was  all  attended  to.     Since  then  no  bills  have  come  to  me  for  him. 


Amanda  Smith.  405 

And  I  his  winter  h;is  been  the  first  time  he  has  been  sick,  any- 
thing special;  he  has  had  a  sore  throat,  and  cold,  but  the  Lord 
has  taken  wonderful  care  of  him. 

How  1  thank  God  for  the  dear  friends  He  has  given;  and  how 
true  His  word:  surely  he  has  raised  up  friends,  and  I  have  done 
the  little  I  could.     Praise  His  name  forever.     Amen.     Amen. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

NATIVE   BABIES — VISIT     TO     CREEKTOWN — NATIVE    SUPERSTITIONS 
—  PRODUCTS   OF   AFRICA  —  DISAPPOINTED   EMIGRANTS. 

One  day,  while  at  Careysburg,  I  heard  a  poor,  liitle,  native 
baby  crying  most  piteously,  and  I  looked  out  to  see  what  was  the 
matter.  It  was  just  across  the  street  from  Brother  Hagins'.  The 
mother  was  sitting  in  front  of  the  house. 

She  had  given  her  baby  its  bath;  they  are  very  particulai 
about  bathing  them  and  keeping  them  clean;  of  course  they  wear 
no  clothes,  not  a  stitch,  and  they  bathe  them  every  morning,  and 
sometimes  oftener,  during  the  day;  their  skin  is  generally  as  clean 
as  can  be;  really  I  never  saw  a  dirty  native  baby. 

The  mother  was  sitting  with  this  little  thing,  about  six 
months  old,  I  suppose,  and  a  beautiful  child  inform,  with  features 
regular  and  well  ordered,  and  she  had  a  little  iron  pot,  that  held 
about  a  quart,  full  of  soft  boiled  rice  setting  beside  her,  and  a  little 
tin  cup  that  had  been  used  for  condensed  milk,  full  of  water;  the 
rice  was  boiled  very  soft,  and  hot  with  pepper,  with  a  little  salt, 
and  she  was  stuffing  her  baby;  we  say  feed,  but  she  was  literally 
stuffing  it;  they  generally  stuff  them  till  their  little  stomachs 
stand  out. 

She  held  the  little  being  between  her  knees,  and  filled  its 
mouth,  and  it  scrambled  and  hollowed,  and  almost  choked;  but 
when  it  did  choke  a  little  she  would  shake  it  till  it  caught  its 
breath,  then  put  a  little  water  in  its  mouth,  and  it  would  strangle 
and  choke  and  kick  till  you  would  think  it  would  go  into  spasms. 
I  went  over  and  thought  I  would  beg  for  it;  I  felt  so  sorry  to 
see  the  little  thing;  to  me  it  looked  like  brutal  punishment.  I 
went  up  to  the  mother,  and  said  to  her: 

'*  Mammy,  you  do  that  baby  too  bad;  don't  do  it." 
She  looked  ujp  at  me  at  first  with  a  kind  of  ft  frowo;  she  didn't 
C4Q6) 


Amanda  Smith.  407 

quit<'  underslaud   what  I  said:  but  when  1  made  her  understand, 
she  laughed  and  said: 

"Mammy,  it  do  him  good;   it    make  him   fine."      And  sh 
seemed  to  pity  me  to  think  I  was  so  weak  as  to  want  to  save  a  baby 
from  growing  fine! 

I  stood  and  looked  at  her;  when  she  was  done  she  had  put 
nearly  every  bit  of  this  rice  into  the  baby's  stomach.  Then  she 
greased  it  all  over  from  head  to  foot  with  palm  oil,  and  then  laid 
it  on  a  mat  in  the  sun,  and  it  kicked  and  cried  till  it  got  tired,  and 
then  stopped  and  quieted  down,  and  went  to  playing  with  its  toes 
and  hands,  as  happy  as  a  cat  in  the  ashes! 
"Well,"  I  said,  "it  is  wonderful." 

They  think  that  to  let  a  baby  cry  and  kick  gives  strength  to 
its  muscles  and  lungs,  and  helps  it  to  grow.  It  kicks  and  e.xer- 
cises,  and  after  all  I  don't  know  but  there  is  pretty  good  logic  in 
it,  when  you  see  how  the  little  things  develop,  and  grow  strong 
and  straight. 

At  another  time,  while  I  was  at  Tatakai,  with  Bishop  Taylor, 
I  heard  a  baby  early  in  the  morning  and  late  at  night,  in  the  next 
native  house  to  where  I  stayed. 

It  cried  so  pitifully  one  night  that  I  was  tempted  to  go  and 
see  what  was  the  matter;  but  then  I  knew  I  could  do  nothing,  for 
they  would  not  understand  me;  so  next  morning  I  asked  Aunt 
Julia,  who  was  with  me,  and  who  was  a  Liberian,  but  could  speak 
and  understand,  the  native  language  quite  well,  what  was  the 
matter  with  the  baby;  it  was  a  little  thing  about  a  week  old. 

She  said  that  the  mother  was  giving  it  its  bath;  and  then  after 
bathing  it  would  rub  it  with  pepper;  and  that  was  why  it  cried  sr 
dreadfully.  [  asked  her  why  they  did  it,  and  she  saia  to  keep  it 
from  taking  cold.  The  weather  was  damp,  and  their  houces  have 
no  floors,  and  that  is  a  preventive  from  taking  cold.  And  they 
often  put  pepper  in  their  eyes,  they  say,  to  make  them  strong. 

Whether  this  be  true  or  not,  there  is  one  thing,  you  seldom 
see  a  native  heathen  with  sore  or  weak  eyes;  you  hardly  ever  see 
one  blind;  sometimes,  it  is  true,  but  they  are  not  nearly  so  general 
as  you  see  them  in  civilized  countries. 

Now,  so  far  as  a  preventive  to  taking  cold  is  concerned,  I 
am  in  for  that;  but.  Lord,  deliver  me  from  that  means! 

At  Old  Calabar  they  used  to  sacrifice  twins,  but  this  is  stopped, 
so  that  if  they  gan  get  them  to  a  missionary  they  8^v§  them,    Pear, 


<J08  ArTOBIOGRAPHY    OF 

old  Moiher  Goldie,  whose  home  is  in  Creektown,  and  who  has 
spenl  so  many  years  of  her  life  in  Africa,  was  one  of  the  first  who 
began  to  save  the  twin  children.  How  sad,  and  yet  interesting, 
were  some  of  her  experiences,  which  she  related  to  me. 

It  is  considered  a  mark  of  very  bad  luck  when  the  mother  has 
twins,  and  the  father  and  mother  feel  alike  about  it,  and  think  it 
is  quite  right  to  let  them  perish. 

At  Duketown  a  pair  of  little  twins  were  brought  to  the 
mission  house  to  Miss  McFunn,  in  a  small  basket  covered  with 
plantain  leaves;  they  had  been  born  about  four  hours,  and  had 
never  been  touched;  one  was  dead,  and  the  other  living,  and  both 
lay  in  the  basket  together,  the  dead  and  the  living.  Miss  McFunn 
took  the  living  child  and  washed  and  dressed  it,  and  rolled  it  in  a 
nice  blanket;  they  tried  to  feed  it;  but  the  poor  little  thing  was  so 
weak  it.  could  not  nurse;  so  it  lived  about  three  hours  and  died, 
which  was  a  great  relief  to  the  mother  and  father,  who  both  sat 
down  and  mourned  together  that  the  Lord  should  send  them  such 
bad  luck. 

A  Mr.  Henderson,  one  of  the  chief  merchants,  who  was  most 
kind  to  all  the  missionaries,  and  who  always  kept  very  nice,  large 
boats,  and  a  full  crew,  took  Miss  McFunn,  Mrs.  Lisle,  Mrs.  Jaret 
and  her  husband,  and  myself,  for  a  little  trip,  of  a  distance,  I  sup- 
pose, of  twelve  miles,  to  Creektown. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  seen  dear  old  Father  and 
Mother  Goldie,  as  they  were  called,  the  heroes  of  thirty-five  or 
forty  years.     How  glad  I  was  to  see  them.     God  bless  them. 

Creektown  is  a  very  pretty  settlement;  a  very  nice,  large 
church,  school  house,  mission  house,  out-houses  and  other  houses 
where  the  missionaries  live,  besides  some  very  nice,  large,  native 
houses. 

Miss  McFunn  and  myself  were  invited  .to  dine  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Goldie.  Mrs.  Lisle  was  invited  to  dine  with  Miss  Slicer,  who 
is  also  a  Scotch  missionary,  and  has  done  a  grand  work.  God 
bless  her. 

She  has  about  twenty  or  thirty,children  to  teach.  She  speaks 
the  language  as  well  as  if  she  were  a  born  native.  It  is  perfectly 
wonderful.  She  might  be  called  an  expert.  She  gave  me  the 
history  of  a  little  baby  which  she  had  had  only  three  months. 

The  father  stole  a  dog  and  killed  it  and  cooked  it,  and  of 
course  the  wife  helped  eat  it.     It  was  found  out  rather  soon;  for 


Amanda  Smith.  409 

just  us  they  luul  linishrd  cjitiiiy,  tln'  man  wiio  had  owind  ihc  dog 
came  and  threw  down  his  curse  on  the  ground  before  them,  and 
said  that  whoever  ate  his  dog  should  die.  The  poor  woman, 
being  frightened,  I  suppose,  was  taken  sick  and  died  in  a  few 
hours;  and  the  poor  baby,  only  a  few  weeks  old,  was  left.  Of 
course,  no  one  would  touch  it.  The  father  did  what  he  could  for 
a  week,  and  then  took  it,  dying,  as  they  thought,  to  Miss  Slicer 
and  begged  her  to  take  it.  She  did,  and  with  much  care  and 
strong  faith  in  God,  she  saved  its  life,  and  it  was  growing  finely. 
It  had  got  fat,  and  was  as  bright,  and  Miss  Slicer  was  as  fond  of 
it,  as  if  it  had  been  her  own  child. 

Miss  Slicer  is  the  kind  of  a  missionary  for  Africa.  May  the 
.Lord  bless,  and  send  scores  of  such.     Amen.     Amen. 

One  thing  which  is  peculiar  in  the  Sierra  Leone  people  is 
that  they  seldom  let  go  of  their  superstitions.  They  have  the 
fetich  in  charms  on  their  persons,  or  hidden  in  their  houses.  I 
was  told  there  were  but  few  houses  but  had  some  charm  buried  in 
their  yard  or  under  their  doorstep. 

One  day  T  was  admiring  a  handsome  gold  chain  a  gentleman 
had  tastefully  arranged  on  his  person.  A  friend  said  to  me, 
"Would,  you  believe  that  that  gentleman  has  four  charm  fetiches 
in  gold?     He  has  the  strongest  kind  of  belief  in  fetich." 

So  it  is  everywhere  you  go.  I  visited  the  hospital  while  at 
Bunth.  There  I  saw  an  old  man  who  was  a  Christian,  and  had 
been  sexton  in  the  Episcopal  Church  for  twenty  years,  and  a  reg- 
ular communicant.  He  was  very  intelligent,  and  interesting  to 
talk  to;  spoke  good  English,  and  though  he  was  feeble,  he  would 
get  out  of  his  cot  and  kneel  down  while  T  prayed  with  him.  As  I 
went  to  help  him  up  after  the  prayer,  T  saw  under  his  loose  gown, 
or  shirt,  a  string  of  cowries  around  his  waist.     Poor  old  man! 

In  this  the  Liberians  are  different.  You  see  there  but  very 
little  of  this,  though  here  and  there  are  some  relics.  Then,  as  a 
rule,  the  Liberians  all  speak  good  American  English,  which  is  quite 
noteworthy'. 

I  am  often  asked  what  are  the  products  of  the  country?  And 
what  th(>  people  live  on?     And  if  the  soil  is  good? 

In  Liberia  the  soil  is  generally  rich;  some  places  better  than 
others;  and  they  can  raise  about  every  kind  of  vegetable  there 
that  would  grow  in  California  or  Florida.  I  have  seen  as  fine  cab- 
bage, melons,  cucumbers,  tomatoes,  beans  and  sweet  potatoes 
raised  there  as  I  ever  saw  raised  anywhere. 


410  Autobiography  of 

Then  there  are  various  kinds  of  fruits.  They  are  different 
from  what  we  have  here.  There  are  no  apples,  or  peaches,  or  ber- 
ries lilie  ours.  The  mango  plum  is  most  abundant,  and  is  very 
nice  in  every  way  you  can  prepare  it.  When  in  Cape  Palmas  I 
dried  some,  just  as  we  dry  apples. 

Some  of  the  people  thought  I  was  wild;  the  idea  of  drying 
plums.  But  it  was  not  very  diflBcult;  the  sun  is  so  hot  that  in 
two  days  they  were  as  dry  as  bones.  I  found  them  most  convenient 
when  the  rainy  season  came  on;  and  some  of  the  folks  that  laughed 
at  the  idea  learned  a  good  lesson. 

As  a  rule  they  do  not  dry  any  of  the  fruits.  Sometimes  they 
will  make  preserves,  but  not  often.  They  just  use  the  things  as 
they  come  round  in  season,  and  when  the  season  is  done  they  are 
done,  until  the  Lord  brings  the  season  for  them  around  again! 

There  is  a  nice  fruit  called  petanga;  something  like  a  cherry; 
quite  tart.  These  make  a  very  nice  jelly,  something  like  currant 
jelly.  I  didn't  see  Irish  potatoes  grow,  but  I  was  told  thej^  had  been 
grown  there,  but  were  generally  small.  For  them  they  depend  on 
the  English  steamers  that  bring  them,  generally  from  Madeira. 

Ifthey  get  fresh  seed  imported  every  year,  their  cabbage,  and 
melons  and  other  vegetables  grow  large,  and  to  the  same  perfec- 
tion they  would  here;  but  if  they  plant  from  the  same  seed,  they 
will  be  a  size  smaller  each  j^ear.  They  seem  to  degenerate.  No 
one  seems  to  be  able  to  account  for  it.  They  have  the  same  soil 
and  attention,  but  they  are  smaller. 

In  bringing  seed  across  the  ocean,  unless  it  is  put  in  sealed 
tins,  air  tight,  no  matter  what  it  is,  the  salt  air  affects  it,  and  very 
often  it  does  not  come  up  at  all;  and  if  it  does  come  up,  it  will  die 
away. 

The  proper  time  of  year  for  gardening  is  September.  Every- 
body that  makes  a  garden  at  all,  or  puts  seed  in  the  ground,  must 
do  it  then,  so  that  at  Christmas  and  New  Years  they  have  the 
nicest  kind  of  vegetables  and  melons. 

Then  there  are  cocoanuts,  bananas,  oranges,  pineapples  and 
such  as  that.  No  one  plants  them  specially:  they  grow  almost 
everywhere.  I  did,  just  before  I  left,  get  some  cocoanut  scions, 
or  young  plants,  and  set  them  out,  some  five  or  six  in  number,  in 
Ma  Payne's  lot.  I  named  them  all.  The  last  I  heard  they  were 
growing  nicely,  and  the  one  I  named  "  Amanda  Smith  "  was 
flourishing. 


Amanda  Smith.  411 

Cotton  grows  nicoly,  with  but  little  care.  They  could  grow 
acres  of  it;  but  I  never  saw  a  dozen  plants  or  bushes  anywhere.  The 
most  I  did  see  at  any  one  place  was  four  nice,  large  bushes  which 
grew  in  the  yard  at  old  Sister  S.'s,  at  Sinoe.  They  use  a  good  d«al 
of  this  for  quilts.  Everybody  has  quilts.  They  don't  put  as  much 
in  them  as  they  do  in  quilts  at  home;  they  do  not  need  to  be  as 
heavy;  yet  they  don't  raise  a  sufficient  quantity  of  cotton  to  sup- 
ply all  the  people  who  would  use  it. 

All  these  things  that  I  have  spoken  of  are  possibilities  in 
Liberia  that  are  yet  to  be  developed  on  a  larger  scale.  For  why 
should  they  not  manufacture  goods  there  as  they  do  in  England 
and  America?     In  the  good  time  that  is  coming  they  will. 

Then  they  raise  a  great  many  fowls.  So  do  the  natives.  They 
have  eggs  for  their  own  purposes.  Then  they  have  cattle  and  pigs 
and  goats;  and  while  these  are  essential,  and  a  blessing  to  those 
who  own  them,  to  others  they  are  a  great  annoyance  and  trouble. 

For  instance:  one  has  a  good  garden  made,  and  a  strong  stick 
fence  as  they  could  get  around  it.  These  native  stick  fences  do 
not  last  longer  than  one  season,  as  a  rule.  After  the  first  year 
some  one  is  most  always  sure  to  break  them  out  for  wood  to  burn, 
and  as  soon  as  the}^  begin  to  break  them  it  is  only  a  matter  of  time 
when  they  will  be  all  gone. 

Then,  as  these  pigs  and  goats  and  cows  all  run  at  large,  just 
as  you  get  your  garden  made,  or  just  as  the  things  are  beginning 
to  come  to  perfection,  you  go  out  some  morning  and  a  goat  or  cow 
or  pig  has  been  in,  and  your  whole  garden  is  gone. 

If  those  who  own  them  in  different  Uiighborhoods  would 
arrange  to  keep  them  up,  then  the  people  who  make  the  gardens 
would  have  enough  for  themselves,  and  could  help  their  neigh- 
bors. But  this  is  one  of  the  drawbacks.  Then,  if  jou  had  no 
more  seed  to  put  in,  which  is  very  likely,  you  are  out;  often  this 
is  the  case.  In  different  parts  of  Liberia,  in  every  county  I  was 
in,  the  people  complained  of  the  same  trouble;  consequently, 
many  that  might  have  fine  gardens  did  not  bother  to  make  them. 

I  advised  them  to  form  companies,  as  they  do  in  India;  each 
man  who  had  land,  to  give  so  much  for  grazing  for  two  or  three 
months  at  a  time,  then  hire  a  man  or  boy  to  take  the  cattle  and 
bring  them  back  every  day.  I  spoke  of  this  e\-erywh<'re  I  went, 
and  they  thought  it  a  good  thing;  but  who  would  start  it,  and  who 
would  get  the  most  money  out  of  it?     But  I  am  sure  it  would  be 


412  Autobiography  of 

the  best  thing  for  all.     I  think  the  time  will  come  when  they  will 
seeitso.     But  the  time  is  not  yet. 

Mr.  Johnson,  with  whom  I  stopped  several  weeks,  in  Bassa, 
toW  me  he  had  lost  eight  or  nine  bullocks  in  a  few  years;  and  pigs 
and  goats,  as  well.  He  was  a  merchant,  and  had  what  they  call  a 
farm,  some  two  or  three  miles  away  from  where  he  lived.  But  he 
let  his  cattle  run  at  large,  just  as  other  people  did;  if  he  would 
make  a  fence,  it  would  be  destroyed  in  a  little  while,  and  his  cattle 
would  be  shot,  or  chopped  with  a  cutlass,  and  maimed  so  they 
would  have  to  be  killed. 

One  day  while  I  was  there,  one  of  their  cows  (one  Mrs.  John- 
son had  raised  from  a  little  calf),  came  home  with  three  large 
arrows  that  had  been  shot  into  her,  still  sticking  in  her.  That  is 
the  way  Mr.  Johnson  came  to  tell  me  about  what  I  have  just  said. 

At  Sierra  Leone,  and  down  the  coast,  I  think  they  are  more 
advanced.  They  have  large  markets  both  at  Sierra  Leone,  and  at 
Lagos,  so  the  steamers  take  on  a  supply.  Then  all  along  the  coast 
after  they  leave  Liberia,  they  are  supplied  with  fowls,  eggs, 
pigeons,  bananas,  pineapples,  peppers,  water  cress,  and  all  sorts  of 
vegetables  in  abundance;  large  fowls,  sixpence  apiece. 

Further  down  the  coast  the  natives  make  very  handsome  cloth. 
They  are  very  clever  in  making  their  dj^es;  it  is  wonderful  how 
they  do  it.  They  have  very  strong  dyes,  with  fast  colors,  green, 
blue,  red,  yellow,  and  various  colors;  it  is  marvelous  how  they 
blend  them;  and  some  of  the  native  cloths  are  really  beautiful. 
They  bring  them  on  the  steamers  and  sell  them  for  different  prices, 
ten,  twenty,  twenty-five,  twenty-six  shillings,  and  some  for  more. 
I  bought  an  elegant  cloth  at  ten  shillings;  but  one  of  the  officers 
got  one  at  twenty,  and  he  said  it  was  very  cheap. 

Chillicothe  is  the  place  where  you  generally  get  these  hand- 
some country  cloths.  I  also  got  one  or  two  very  nice  pieces  at  Mon- 
rovia; but  nothing  like  those  that  j^ou  get  down  the  coast.  They 
weave  their  cloth  in  strips  about  four  or  five  inches  wide;  then 
they  sew  it  together  to  any  length  or  breadth  they  want  it. 

The  natives  are  great  geniuses  in  this  way;  and  it  is  wonder- 
ful to  see  the  number  of  things  they  can  make. 

Then  the  Liberians  have  other  products  besides  those  which  I 
have  named.  Their  coffee  is  very  fine,  and  of  rich  flavor.  There 
are  some  large  planters  who  raise  and  ship  thousands  of  pounds. 
Among  these  are,  Mr.  Moses  Ricks,  and  Senator  Coleman,  of  Clay- 


Amanda  Smith.  413 

Ashliind;  Sandors  Washington,  of  Virginia;  June  Moore  and  Saul 
Hill,  of  Arthiugton;  and  Jesse  Sharpe.  These  are  all  on  or  near 
the  St.  Paul  River.  They  are  men  who  went  from  this  country 
years  ago,  when  young;  men  of  sterling  worth  and  push.  The 
Ricks'  were  three  brothers  — Moses,  Henry,  and  John;  they  were 
staunch  Baptists,  and  good  men.  They  always  stood  together, 
and  were  the  stay  and  the  backbone  of  the  church  at  Clay-Ash- 
land. 

In  developing  mission  work  among  the  natives,  so  far  as  my 
observation  went,  the  Baptists  were  ahead.  And  their  churches 
and  mission  work  are  all  self-supporting,  that  is,  they  have  no 
foreign  help,  as  they  used  to  have.  Then  at  Arthington;  June 
Moore  and  Saul  Hill,  were  classed  among  the  men  of  large  means. 
Both  of  these  were  earnest  Christian  men,  and  Deacons  in  the  Bap- 
tist Church. 

Mr.  Moore,  in  his  outward  appearance,  was  very  plain,  but  a 
man  of  more  than  ordinary  intelligence,  and  unquestioned  veracity, 
and  moral  character;  and  a  strong  temperance  man.  His  is  a 
beautiful  character.       I  wish  I  could  have  found  it  more  general. 

Mr.  Moore  was  a  very  good  preacher.  He  had  charge  of  the 
Baptist  Church  at  Arthington,  and  had  the  confidence  of  the  peo- 
ple, Liberians  and  natives.  Through  his  sympathy  and  co-opera- 
tion we  held  a  temperance  meeting  in  the  Baptist  Church  at  Ar- 
thington, and  organized  a  Gospel  Temperance  Band,  and,  I  think, 
made  him  President.  Of  course,  the  majority  there,  were  not  far 
advanced  on  the  line  of  woman  preaching.  It  was  all  right  at 
other  churches,  and  they  would  go  and  hear,  and  get  what  benefit 
they  could.  But  they  were  generally  in  favor  of  Paul's  assertion: 
*'  Letj'our  women  keep  silence  in  the  churches." 

The  more  liberal  believe  that  the  other  statement  of  Paul 
should  be  considered  as  well,  viz.:  how  a  woman  should  be  adorned 
when  praying  or  prophesying. 

The  Lord  blessed  me  very  greatly,  and  I  had  my  friends 
among  them  all.  I  was  never  asked  in  a  Baptist  Church  to  take 
a  service,  while  I  was  there;  only  to  address  a  Sabbath  School. 

I  spent  a  very  pleasant  time  at  Mr.  June  Moore's  home,  and 
immensely  enjoyed  the  conversation  we  had  together.  He  was 
full  of  information  on  all  points  of  interest  in  the  republic,  and 
country,  both  among  the  natives  and  Liberians. 

After  the  family  prayer  was  over  in  the  evening,  we  sat  and 


414  Autobiography  op 

talked  till  twelve  o'clock.  He  told  me  all  about  the  much  talked 
of  Richard  Morris  school,  of  which  he  had  charge  at  that  time. 
This  I  was  very  anxious  to  know  about,  as  I  had  met  Mr.  Richard 
Morris  in  England,  before  I  went  to  Africa,  and  had  heard  some 
of  his  interesting  lectures,  and  about  the  school  that  he  was  estab- 
lishing for  the  education  and  training  of  the  sons  of  native  chiefs! 
But  when  I  got  there,  and  saw  and  heard  for  myself,  oh,  how 
different.  So  far  as  the  sons  of  native  chiefs  being  in  the  school, 
there  never  had  been  one.  The  native  boys  who  did  go  to  the 
school,  were  the  boys  who  lived  in  the  different  families  in  the 
neighborhood.  Mr.  June  Moore  had  several  native  boys.  These 
went  to  the  school  during  the  rainy  season;  when  this  was  over 
they  had  to  work  on  the  farm. 

The  little  school  house  was  formerly  a  Methodist  church, 
with  a  seating  capacity  of  about  fifty,  when  it  was  packed. 

Poor  Mr.  Morris  meant  to  do  Ldberia  good;  and  no  doubt  he 
did  help  the  people  greatly,  by  introducing  their  coffee  at  the 
great  Centennial  Exposition.  But  the  pretty  little  steamer,  costing 
six  hundred  pounds,  which  he  sent  out  from  England,  and  the 
three  large  iron  soap  kettles,  ended  up  pretty  much  like  the  hang- 
ing of  the  gin  at  Virginia;  that  was  a  sad  failure. 

I  think  that  often  these  things  are  misleading  to  those  who 
purpose  emigrating.  They  hear  of  these  things,  and  they  sound 
well;  they  have  gathered  a  little  together,  by  dint  of  hard  work, 
and  much  self-denial;  they  sacrifice  it  and  gooff  to  Liberia.  When 
they  find  things  so  different  from  what  has  been  represented,  they 
become  discouraged,  and  disappointed,  and  often  disgusted.  They 
have  no  means  to  get  back  to  this  country,  and  if  they  did,  they 
could  not  recover  what  they  have  sacrificed,  and  so  would  have  to 
make  an  entirely  new  start;  so  that  many  give  up  and  die,  or 
make  up  their  minds  to  do  the  best  they  can,  and  that  is  often  a 
grievously  poor  do. 

I  remember  when  that  large  emigration  came  to  Cape 
Palmas,  the  citizens  called  a  mass  meeting  in  the  Episcopal  school 
room,  to  which  these  strangers  were  invited.  Papers,  and  ad- 
dresses of  welcome,  were  read. 

As  it  was  but  a  short  distance  from  where  I  lived,  when  I 
heard  of  it  I  said  I  would  go.  I  was  glad  of  it,  and  thought  it 
would  encourage  and  help  the  strangers.  But  I  was  told,  a  little 
while  after,  that  no  women  were  to  go;  it  was  only  for  men.   Then 


Amanda  Smith.  415 

I  was  more  anxious  than  ever;  and,  womanlike,  I  became  suspic- 
ious, as  well  as  curious.  I  thought,  "Why  can't  I  go?  These 
emigrants  are  from  my  country,  and  I  have  a  right  to  go,  and  I 
will." 

Just  before  the  meeting  someone  called  and  asked  me  if  I  were 
going. 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

"  Oh,  my  husband  says  there  are  no  women  going,  and  he  will 
not  let  me  go." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "you  have  a  husband  to  obey;  but  I  have  not; 
so  I  am  going." 

"  The  seats  will  all  be  full,"  she  said. 

"All  right,  I  will  take  my  own  chair." 

So  I  did.  They  all  knew  I  was  a  kind  of  privileged  char- 
acter anyhow,  and  generally  carried  out  what  I  undertook. 

I  noticed,  when  I  went  in,  they  began  to  look  at  one  another. 
Sure  enough,  I  was  the  only  woman  there. 

I  went  and  took  my  seat  in  the  middle  of  the  aisle.  I  think 
they  thought  that  I  wanted  to  talk;  but  that  was  a  mistake. 
There  was  talking  enough  done  to  have  built  a  tower,  if  there  had 
been  anything  in  it,  Mr.  James  Tuning  was  the  speaker  of  the 
evening.  He  had  a  very  lengthy  paper  about  Jacob  receiving  his 
brethren.  And  of  all  the  big  talk  that  anj^one  ever  listened  to, 
they  had  it  in  that  meeting. 

I  knew  that  more  than  half  that  was  in  the  papers  was  only 
worth  the  paper  it  was  on.  I  was  quite  sure  it  didn't  mean  more 
than  that;  but  the  strangers  didn't  know  it.  All  the  prominent 
men  of  the  place  were  present  —  His  Lordship,  Bishop  Ferguson, 
the  Hon.  J.  Gibson,  Mr.  J.  Thorne,  Mr.  Ashton  and  a  number  of 
others. 

When  they  were  all  through  expressing  themselves,  and 
heartily  welcoming  the  emigrants  to  their  country,  this  free  coun- 
try where  they  were  not  oppressed  by  white  men;  the  countr}' 
where  they  could  be  men;  where  they  had  the  rights  of  the  law, 
and  were  independent,  and  all  the  other  big  things  we  can  say, 
then  they  asked  the  emigrants  to  speak. 

As  it  was  getting  late,  there  were  but  three  of  these  emigrants 
who  made  speeches.  The  leader  was  a  j'oung  man,  a  Mr.  Massie, 
who  had  been  the  chief  in  getting  up  this  emigration  and  leading 
them  out.     He  was  the  Moses.     He  talked  well,  though  his  speech 


416  Autobiography  of 

was  not  lengthy.  But  of  all  the  raking  of  white  people!  It 
Seemed  as  if  their  chief  aim  was  to  say  all  the  hard  things  and 
vent  all  their  unpleasant  feelings  against  the  white  people;  which 
Is  very  much  admired  by  the  Liberians,  and  is  a  mark  of  real  race 
loyalty. 

Each  one,  in  turn,  expressed  himself  the  same  way.  The 
home  folks  laughed  and  smiled  and  looked  at  me.  I  felt  very 
sorry  for  this.  It  is  the  wrong  spirit  to  be  cherished  and  culti- 
vated and  perpetuated.  I  have  never  seen  any  good  from  it. 
Somehow  or  other,  though  I  cannot  explain  it,  it  is  not  the  spirit 
that  has  the  sanction  of  God.  It  is  wrong  in  those  who  have 
caused  these  grievances,  but  it  does  not  help  us  any  to  forever  keep 
looking  at  the  wrongs,  and  never  see  any  of  the  good,  which  has 
always  gone  along  side  by  side  with  the  wrong.  The  good  has  not 
always  been  the  strongest  or  the  most  prominent,  yet  it  has  been 
there. 

I  could  not  help  thinking,  as  T  listened,  that  before  these  poor 
emigrants  had  been  there  half  as  long  as  I  had  been,  if  they 
needed  sympathy  or  help,  they  would  find  it  quicker  right  among 
those  whom  they  had  held  up  that  night  as  being  their  worst 
enemies,  than  they  would  among  those  who  got  up  there  and  said 
such  big  things. 

And  I  was  there  to  see  that  same  man,  within  six  months, 
come  to  such  absolute  need  that  he  came  to  me  to  borrow  two  gal- 
lons of  rice.  His  wife  was  sick,  his  baby  had  died,  and  he  had 
terrible  sores  on  his  feet  and  legs  from  the  effects  of  the  chigoes; 
and  he  was  in  a  pitiable  and  helpless  condition.  He  had  been  to 
one  of  the  white  merchants  the  week  before  and  borrowed  some 
rice.  He  could  not  get  it  from  any  of  his  brethren  and  friends  who 
had  read  such  noble  papers  and  given  them  such  a  hearty  welcome. 

He  did  not  like  to  come  to  me,  because  I  had  not  failed  to  tell 
them  that  when  they  got  to  where  they  were  in  great  need  they 
would  find  very  likely  these  "riends  would  fail  them.  So  he 
stayed  away  as  long  as  he  could. 

I  was  glad  when  he  came  to  me  that  I  was  able  to  help  him. 
I  said  to  him,  "  I  am  sorry  for  you.  I  could  have  told  you  that,  that 
same  night  you  were  talking;  but  then  if  I  had  told  you  then,  you 
would  not  have  believed  it." 

Poor  fellow,  the  tears  were  in  his  eyes.  He  said,  "  Ah,  Sister 
Smith,  I  have  learned  a  lesson." 


Amanda  Smith.  417 

And  so  he  hud.  But  as  the  old  s-iyii\i?  is,  "  Bought  wit  is  bet- 
ter than  taught  wit,"  when  you  do  not  buy  it  too  dear.  This  poor 
man's  purpose  was,  after  he  got  settled  in  Liberia,  to  come  back 
to  America  and  bring  out  a  large  emigration.  My!  what  wonder- 
ful things  he  was  going  to  do.  But  that  little  experience  cooked 
him  pretty  thoroughly;  so  that  his  ambitions  were  not  so  high. 

Poor  Massie!  I  wonder  how  he  has  got  on.  I  am  simply 
speakihg  of  this  as  what  I  knew  and  saw  when  I  was  there. 
Everything  may  have  changed  since  then,  for  all  I  know.  There 
were  possibilities,  but  not  many  probabilities. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

LIBERIA  —  BUILDINGS  —  THE  RAINY  SEASON  —  SIERRA  LEONE  —  ITS 
PEOPLE  —  SCHOOLS  —  WHITE  MISSIONARIES  —  COMMON  SENSE 
NEEDED  —  BROTHER  JOHNSON'S  EXPERIENCE  —  HOW  WE  GET 
ON   IN    AFRICA. 

Emigrants  going  to  Liberia  think  they  can  rent  a  small  house, 
or  rooms,  as  they  can  in  this  country.  People  will  come  there, 
who  have  left  a  comfortable  home  behind,  and  think  they  will 
rent  a  small  house  for  six  months  or  a  year,  till  they  can  get  their 
own  house  built;  but  this  they  can  seldom  do.  The  reason  of 
this,  I  think  is,  the  climate  is  very  hard  on  timber,  and  a  house 
standing  unoccupied  for  any  length  of  time  will  soon  be  destroyed. 

The  bug-a-bug  is  a  very  large  ant,  which  eats  the  wood  to  a 
perfect  hull,  and  the  most  destructive  insect  in  that  regard  in  the 
country.  If  they  get  into  a  trunk  or  chest  of  clothes,  and  are  not 
discovered  in  time,  they  will  go  through  everything,  books,  papers, 
etc.;  nothing  stands  before  them.  After  you  know  this,  a  little 
watching  may  save  you  a  great  deal  of  trouble. 

So  that  the  most  of  the  people  in  Liberia,  or  anywhere  else  in 
the  republic,  build,  and  live  in  their  own  houses.  Houses  that 
are  built  of  stone  or  brick  are  the  most  durable;  and  the  best 
houses  there  are  thus  built.  But  the  frame  houses  have  the  hard- 
est time. 

Slate  roofing,  in  one  sense,  would  be  better  than  shingles, 
especially  for  the  rainy  season,  for  the  reason  that  the  rain  and 
sun  do  not  affect  it  so  much  as-they  do  the  shingles. 

During  the  rainy  season  there,  it  literally  pours.  I  have  often 
thought  of  Noah  in  the  ark  when  I  have  seen  the  rain  pour  down 
without  mercy  for  two  or  three  days  in  succession,  with  just  a 
little  intervals  of  a  slight  break  between.  Then  the  sun  would 
come  out,  sometimes  for  a  half  day,  perhaps  in  the  morning  or 

(418) 


Amanda  Smith.  419 

afternoon,  then  it  would  rain  at  night;  but  these  little  intervals 
help  the  people  to  get  about  and  do  their  work.  Nobody  seems  to 
stop  especially.  After  you  have  been  here  awhile  you  do  not  seem 
to  mind  it.  It  is  rather  comfortable,  for  it  is  not  so  warm  then, 
and  you  can  stand  a  good  little  fire  in  the  house  to  absorb  the 
dampness. 

As  a  rule  there  is  a  good  deal  of  sickness  and  fever  among  the 
natives  during  this  season;  but  people  having  comfortable  houses 
suffer  but  very  little  inconvenience. 

When  the  rainy  season  is  over,  and  the  blazing,  hot  sun  beats 
down,  the  shingles  curl  right  up  and  split,  so  that  almost  every 
year  it  is  necessary  to  go  through  some  repairing.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  slate  roof  gets  so  hot  that  it  makes  sleeping  almost  im- 
possible, unless  the  roof  is  high,  and  well  lined  under  the  slate. 

There  are  some  large  houses,  for  stores;  these  are  occupied  by 
white  merchants,  or  traders,  so  that  if  there  chance  to  be  a  good 
house  of  any  size  to  rent,  they  generally  have  the  preference,  for 
they  always  have  the  money,  and  that  is  the  first  consideration  in 
Africa  as  well  as  elsewhere. 

Now,  in  this  regard  Sierra  Leone  is  different.  There  are 
almost  always  good  houses  to  rent  there;  they  build  houses  for 
that  purpose.  And  so  if  you  want  a  house  with  a  store  under- 
neiith,  or  a  large  private  house,  or  one  not  so  large,  it  can  be  got  at 
a  reasonable  price,  as  a  rule,  and  on  a  good,  wide  street. 

The  Sierra  Leone  houses  are  very  substantially  built,  but  gen- 
erally of  stone  or  brick,  with  yards  enclosed  by  a  good,  high  wall, 
after  the  English  style,  and  nicely  furnished  inside.  I  have  seen 
some  as  finely  finished  houses  in  Sierra  Leone  and  Lagos  as  I  have 
seen  in  America  or  England. 

The  people  of  Sierra  Leone  are  greatly  mixed,  as  to  tribes;  so 
much  so,  that  I  think  it  would  be  difficult  to  tell  to  just  what  par- 
ticular tribe  they  really  belong. 

They  have  no  real,  distinct  language.  They  speak  a  lingo  of 
broken  English,  which  all  seem  to  understand;  and  when  two  or 
three  dozen  of  them  are  together,  especially  the  women  and  girls 
in  the  market  places,  it  would  remind  one  unaccustomed  to  it  of 
the  chattering  of  a  thousand  swallows.  My!  but  they  can  talk. 
But  there  are  hundreds  who  speak  good  English. 

There  are  many  wealthy  merchants,  both  in  Sierra  Leone  and 
Lagos,  who  often  send  their  sons  and  daughters  to  England,  and 


420  Autobiography  of 

sometimes  to  France,  to  be  educated.  But  somehow  they  never 
seem  to  lose  this  peculiar  Sierra  Leone  idiom;  so  that  they  are 
just  as  distinct  in  their  customs  and  manners  of  speech  from 
Liberians  and  Americans,  as  Italians  are  different  from  Americans 
in  this  country;  so  they  do  not  assimilate  easily.  They  inter- 
marry occasionally,  but  not  often;  and  when  they  do,  they  seldom 
get  on  well  together,  their  training  and  education  are  so  entirely 
different. 

But  the  country  is  no  better  off  for  this  education.  Of  course 
they  don't  come  home  to  do  missionary  work  among  the  people; 
they  belong  to  the  upper  rank;  and  so  those  of  the  same  rank  are  a 
society  among  themselves;  and  the  second  and  third  classes  of 
their  own  people  are  never  the  better  for  their  higher  education, 
only  as  they  may  serve  them,  as  servants,  or  otherwise. 

If  it  is  a  lady,  she  is  either  engaged,  before  she  comes  home, 
to  be  married  to  some  rich  gentleman,  or  very  soon  after  she  gets 
home  you  ma}'  hear  that  she  has  had  an  offer;  sometimes  there 
will  be  rival  suitors  for  her  hand,  and  you  will  wait  with  the 
greatest  interest,  for  you  are  sure  to  hear  of  it,  which  of  these  has 
won  the  suit.  As  much  of  this  depends  on  the  weight  of  their 
pockets  as  anything  else. 

And  then,  when  one  of  these  weddings  comes  off,  it  will  give 
you  a  little  idea  of  what  real  black  aristocracy  is.  It  would  com- 
pare favorably  with  the  same  kind  of  an  event  on  Fifth  Avenue, 
New  York,  or  in  Washington,  1).  C.  Fine  cards  and  wedding 
presents,  and  all  the  outfit  for  four  or  five  bridesmaids,  as  well  as 
bride  and  groom,  and  best  man,  etc.,  etc.,  all  imported  from 
England  and  France.  These  people  are  not  ignorant  in  regard  to 
the  highest  style,  and  the  greatest  etiquette. 

As  a  rule,  I  think  the  Sierra  Leone  people  are  generally  indus- 
trious; there  are  merchants,  tailors,  carpenters,  etc.,  among  them. 
They  have  large  markets  where  3'ou  can  go  and  get,  two  or  three 
times  a  week,  all  sorts  of  produce,  at  a  good  price.  Then  they 
have  regular  beef  markets,  from  which  they  supply  Government 
House,  and  the  large  barracks  of  English  soldiers. 

They  are  great  traders,  men,  women,  boj'S  and  girls;  the 
women  often  surpass  the  men.  They  will  go  up  and  down  the 
rivers,  and  in  the  interior,  buying  palm  oil,  rubber,  camwood, 
and  boys  and  girls,  if  necessary.  I  was  told  they  do  this  some- 
times, but  for  the  purpose  of  setting  them  free,  as  the  English  law 


.i     I 


yrA^&  mt 


"M 


!^ 


I 


Wl0 


«". 


fl^V 


Amanda  Smith.  *  4^1 

does  not  allow  anyone  to  own  slaves,  when  it  is  really  known. 
Thank  God  for  that. 

Formerly  they  had  good  schools  in  Freetown.  This  is  one 
thing  I  admire  in  the  English  government;  she  generally  looks 
well  after  the  education  of  her  colonists.  Of  course  there  is  room 
for  much  improvement,  even  in  Sierra  Leone  and  Lagos. 

All  up  and  down  the  coast,  wherever  you  go  where  the  English 
flag  waves,  and  there  has  been  any  civilization  at  all,  you  will  find 
scores  and  hundreds  who  have  a  liberal  education,  and  are  fitted 
for  most  all  professions  and  callings. 

The  Wesleyan  Girls'  High  School,  at  Freetown,  was  once  a 
beautiful  building,  with  well  furnished  dormitories,  and  a  stafi'of 
first-class  teachers;  but  it  has  seen  its  best  days,  without  a  great 
change  takes  place.  For  several  years  it  has  been  sadly  declining 
in  power  and  influence,  being  almost  entirely  under  the  control  of 
one  or  two  parties.  I  was  told  that  when  it  was  first  founded,  it 
was  under  the  management  of  white  people;  the  lady  principal 
and  teachers  were  all  white,  and  they  did  a  grand  work.  And 
then  the  boys'  high  school,  which  I  also  visited,  and  had  the 
privilege,  through  the  invitation  of  the  principal,  Mr.  M.,  of 
addressing,  was  not  what  it  once  was,  or  should  be.  The  Episco- 
pal school,  both  for  girls  and  boys,  is  good.  The  boys  have  a  fine, 
large,  commodious  building,  and  a  good  staff  of  teachers. 

Several  of  the  Liberian  families,  w^ho  have  not  been  able  to 
send  their  sons  and  daughters  as  far  as  England  to  be  educated, 
sent  them  to  Freetown.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  going  all  through 
this  building,  on  the  day  of  the  dedication  of  the  new  dormitory 
and  recitation  rooms,  which  had  been  added  to  the  main  building, 
accommodating,  I  think,  probably  two  hundred  in  all.  His  lord- 
ship, the  Bishop,  was  in  the  chair,  and  gave  a  most  excellent 
address,  as  did  also  Mr.  N.,  who,  I  think,  at  that  time  had  charge 
of  the  theological  department,  and  who  was  a  noble,  Christian 
gentleman.  His  sister  was  the  lady  principal  of  the  girls'  high 
school,  which  I  also  visUed,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  speaking  a 
few  words  to  the  young  ladies.     Everything  was  in  good  order. 

I  was  greatly  delighted  with  this  school,  especially  the  house- 
keeping department,  where,  in  connection  with  their  studies,  each 
girl  took  her  turn  in  the  sweeping,  dusting,  making  bread,  biscuit, 
pie,  or  cake,  and  in  washing  dishes  and  attending  the  dining  room. 
This,  it  seemed  to  me,  was  the  most  essential  of  all;  it  would  cer- 


423  *  Autobiography  of 

tainly  be  one  of  the  "one  needful  things."  For  if,  having  the 
intellectual  qualifications,  the  girls  in  Africa  are  remiss  in  this, 
the  former  is  as  good  as  lost,  to  a  great  extent,  as  their  homes 
would  not  be  what  they  might  be  otherwise. 

Then,  there  are  private  schools.  I  visited  a  Mr.  Leapol's 
school,  which  was  a  very  nice  school  for  boys.  I  suppose  he  accom- 
modated about  forty.  Mr.  L.  was  a  very  high  type  of  a'Christian 
gentleman;  I  think,  a  West  Indian  by  birth.  This  school  was  of 
the  higher  grade.  Teachers  and  helpers,  I  believe,  were  all 
colored. 

There  was  a  good  government  school,  which,  according  to  my 
American  ideas,  should  have  continued  to  exist.  But  when  the 
new  Bishop  came,  he,  being  a  very  conservative  English  gentle- 
man, and  invested  with  power,  thought  it  best,  as  I  was  told,  to 
disband  the  government  school,  and  build  a  large  parish  school. 
So  that  many  of  the  poor  children,  who  were  not  able  to  pay,  were 
shut  out.  This  opened  a  good  harvest  for  the  Roman  Catholics, 
which  they  lost  no  time  in  securing. 

I  am  often  asked  if  I  think  that  missionary  work  in  Africa 
prospers  and  develops  better  when  under  the  entire  control  of 
colored  people,  or  do  I  think  it  is  better  under  the  control  of  white 
people. 

To  answer  this  as  best  I  can  I  will  give  my  experience  and 
observation  at  the  several  places  I  have  been. 

The  schools  at  Old  Calabar  under  the  Scotch  Presbyterian 
Missionary  Society,  and  the  schools  and  missions  at  Lagos,  and  the 
Episcopal,  Baptist  and  Wesleyan  Schools  in  the  Republic  of  Libe- 
ria, and  then  in  Sierra  Leone  the  United  Free  Methodists,  the 
Episcopals,  the  Lady  Huntington  Society,  the  U.  B.  Mission,  and 
the  English  Baptist  Mission,  all  were  established,  supported  and 
superintended  by  white  missionaries;  but  just  in  proportion  as 
they  have  died,  or  on  account  of  poor  health  have  had  to  retire 
from  the  work,  the  schools  and  mission  property  have  declined. 

Many  of  them  in  the  work  have  developed  good  native  teachers 
and  preachers,  who  are  lo^al,  and  faithful,  and  true;  and  the 
white  missionary  feels  that  he,  or  she,  could  not  do  without  these 
native  helpers.  But  when  the  whole  work  is  left  to  them  the 
interest  seems  to  flag,  and  the  natives  themselves  seem  to  lose 
their  interest,  which  the  teacher  feels,  but  cannot  help. 

I  do  not  attempt  to  make  any  explanation  of  this;  I  simply 


Amanda  Smith.  423 

state  tlie  facts  as  I  met  them.  And  as  I  mingled  with  the  people, 
old  and  young,  and  as  the  older  people,  who  knew  more  about  it, 
would  tell  me  what  it  had  been  in  former  years,  the  remains  of 
which  were  left,  in  the  mission  house  and  grounds,  it  was  not  dif- 
ficult to  see  the  difference. 

Then,  the  white  missionaries,  as  a  rule,  give  better  satisfaction, 
both  to  the  natives  and  to  the  church  or  society  which  sends  them 
out. 

I  suppose  no  church  or  society  ever  gave  a  salary  to  a  colored 
man,  no  matter  how  efficient  he  was,  as  large  as  they  give  to  a  white 
man  or  woman,  no  matter  how  inefficient  he  or  she  may  be  in  the 
start;  and  I  think  they  are  generally  expected  to  do  more  work. 
This  I  think  is  a  great  mistake. 

I  believe  that  the  death  of  the  grandest  black  missionary  I 
ever  knew,  Rev.  Joseph  Gomer,  of  the  Shanghai  Mission,  was 
hastened  through  over-work  and  pressing  need,  and  salary  and 
means  for  work  being  cut  down,  and  great  anxiety  because  of  the 
urgent  demand  for  the  work. 

For  pure  Christian  integrity,  and  untarnished  moral  character, 
and  fatherly  sympathy  and  love  for  the  poor  heathen,  he  had  but 
few  equals  in  Africa,  if  any. 

"Then  you  think,  Mrs.  Smith,  it  is  better  that  white  mission- 
aries should  go  to  Africa." 

Yes,  if  they  are  the  right  kind.  If  they  are  thoroughly  con- 
verted and  fully  consecrated  and  wholly  sanctified  to  God,  so  that 
all  their  prejudices  are  completely  killed  out,  and  their  hearts  are 
full  of  love  and  sympathy,  and  they  have  firmness  of  character, 
and  good,  broad,  level-headed  common  sense,  and  are  possessed  of 
great  patience,  and  strong,  persistent,  persevering  faith,  and  then 
keep  up  the  spirit  of  earnest  prayer  to  Almighty  God,  day  and 
night.  I  do  not  say  that  it  is  necessary  to  be  under  a  dead  strain 
all  the  time;  not  at  all;  but  my  own  personal  experience  is  that 
the  more  one  prays  and  trusts  in  God,  the  better  he  can  get  on, 
especially  in  Africa. 

Everything  is  so  different  from  what  you  have  it  at  home, 
that  this  is  an  absolute  necessity;  and  the  person  that  has  not  got 
the  stick-to-itiveness  on  these  lines,  especially,  whatever  else  he 
may  have,  will  not  make  a  good  missionary  in  Africa,  whether  he 
be  white  or  black. 

I  have  known  some  white   missionaries  who  have  gone  to 


424  Autobiography  of 

Africa,  who  were  just  as  full  of  prejudice  against  black  people  as 
they  are  in  this  country,  and  did  not  have  grace  enough  to  hide 
it;  but  they  seemed  to  think  they  were  in  Africa,  and  there  was 
no  society  that  they  cared  for,  and  that  the  black  people  had  but 
little  sense,  so  they  would  never  know  if  they  did  act  mean  and  do 
moan  things. 

And  I  have  known  some  who  have  done  disreputable  things, 
and  it  has  had  its  effect  on  the  motives  and  principles  of  the  good 
missionaries,  until  they  have  had  time  enough  patiently  to  live  it 
down,  and  have  proved  to  the  Liberians  and  natives  that  there  is 
a  difference,  even  in  white  missionaries. 

But  thank  God,  He  has  sent  some  who  have  fully  answered  to 
what  I  have  said  before.  There  are  one  or  two  who  come  to  my 
mind  now,  who,  1  believe,  in  every  particular  fill  the  bill.  I  refer 
to  Miss  Lizzie  McNeil,  who,  it  seems  to  me,  is  a  born  missionary, 
and  to  Miss  Whitfield.  There  are  numbers  of  others;  but  I  speak 
of  these  because  I  know  them  personally,  and  know  their  work. 

I  remember  the  first  party  of  Bishop  Taylor's  missionaries  that 
came  to  Cape  Palmas  while  I  was  there.  The  steamer  got  in  on 
Saturday  afternoon;  six  of  the  men  came  ashore  Saturday  evening; 
the  others,  with  their  families,  remained  till  morning,  and  they  all 
got  ashore  in  time  for  church  Sunday  morning. 

Dear  Brother  Harnard  preached  a  grand  sermon.  He  was  the 
leader,  or  bishop,  of  the  party.  They  were  all  so  full  of  hope  and 
cheer.  How  bright  and  happy  they  all  seemed  to  be.  Brother 
Harnard  had  two  beautiful  children,  about  two  and  four  years  of 
age,  I  suppose;  and  the  people,  natives  and  all,  were  so  delighted 
with  tl\em.  Some  of  them  have  never  seen  white  children  so  young; 
and  then  they  were  so  beautifully  trained;  and  Brother  and  Sister 
Harnard  were  so  good  and  kind  to  every  one. 

Brother  Pratt,  Bishop  Taylor's  agent  in  Cape  Palmas,  what- 
ever he  may  be  now,  was  certainly  the  best  man  that  Bishop  Tay- 
lor could  have  got  anywhere  to  fill  the  position,  at  the  time.  Oh, 
how  faithfully  that  man  worked.  How  he  sacrificed  his  home, 
and  everything  for  the  work.  His  poor  wife  was  sick  all  the  time; 
suffered— Oh!  what  a  sufferer  she  was;  but  she  was  second  in 
everything  for  the  success  and  good  of  Bishop  Taylor's  work. 

He  took  Brother  Harnard  and  his  wife  and  two  children,  and 
two  of  the  other  men.  Brother  Johnson  and  Brother  Miller,  to  his 
house.     Sister  Harmon  and  I  had  arranged  to  take  care  of  three 


Amanda  Smith.  425 

of  the  bi'othreu —Brother  Cadle,  Brother  Ortlit,  and  Brother  Gar- 
wood. I  gave  them  breakfast  and  tea,  and  Sister  Harmon  lodged 
them,  and  gave  them  dinner. 

On  Monday  afternoon  I  invited  Brother  Johnson  and  Brother 
Miller  to  take  tea  with  the  other  brethren.  Of  course,  these  were 
my  own  country  people;  they  had  left  their  home  and  went  to 
work  among  my  people  in  Africa.     So  we  did  our  best  for  them. 

I  got  Sister  Harmon  to  make  some  nice,  old-fashioned,  Mary- 
land biscuit  (which  she  knew  as  well  how  to  do  as  I  did  myself, 
and  I  used  to  be  considered  an  expert,  once  upon  a  time),  and  we 
had  nice  fried  chicken,  and  all  else  we  could  get,  and  that  in 
abundance;  that  is  the  way  we  generally  had  it  in  Africa,  when 
we  were  in  for  a  big  thing! 

Of  course,  we  could  not  go  at  that  speed  every  day.  But 
thank  God,  I  never  saw  a  day  in  Africa  that  I  did  not  have  plenty 
to  eat.  And  when  at  Ma  Payne's,  in  Monrovia,  for  days  my  meals 
would  be  sent  to  me  in  my  room,  when  I  was  not  able  to  go  down, 
and  as  nicely  served  on  a  waiter  as  if  I  had  been  at  a  nice  board- 
ing house,  or  at  my  own  home  in  America. 

After  tea  was  over  we  were  all  talking  and  having  a  pleasant 
time;  the  brethren  seemed  so  to  have  enjoyed  their  tea,  and  we 
were  all  pleased. 

Brother  Johnson  had  been  expressing  in  the  most  flattering 
terms  his  delight  and  appreciation  of  the  splendid  tea,  and  espe- 
cially the  biscuit.  He  said  the  lady  who  made  them  must  have 
been  a  wonderfully  nice  lady,  and  if  she  was  not  married,  she 
ought  to  be;  for  a  lady  that  could  make  such  biscuit  ought  to 
have  a  good  husband.  Well,  we  all  laughed,  and  passed  it  off  in 
a  joking  manner.    I  felt  pretty  safe,  as  I  had  not  made  the  biscuit. 

Sister  Harmon  was  a  nice  looking  woman,  but  was  older  than 
I,  and  had  sons  grown  and  married,  and  grandchildren;  so  she  had 
no  fear  of  anything,  save  the  embarrassment  of  the  question  and 
answer,  if  it  really  came  to  that.     So  Brother  Johnson  said  to  me: 

"Mrs.  Smith,  I  would  like  to  speak  to  you  privately." 

"Very  well,"  I  said;  "we  will  excuse  these  brethren,  and  you 
can  see  me  just  here." 

So  the  three  brethren  arose  and  withdrew  to  the  parlor.  I  had 
watched  and  listened  to  Brother  Johnson,  and  had  taken  his  meas- 
ure pretty  thoroughly  while  he  was  talking,  and  I  felt  in  my  mind 
that  he  was  going  to  play  the  fool. 


436  Autobiography  of 

"Now,  Brother  Johnson,"  said  I,  "proceed.  What  is  it  you 
want  to  say?" 

He  straightened  up  and  smiled,  and  acted  a  little  ennbarrassed; 
then  got  red  in  the  face  and  all  down  his  neck,  till  his  beautiful 
white  necktie  seemed  as  though  it  was  about  to  get  pink,  too. 

I  thought,  "  Dearie  me,  what  will  he  say?  "  For  I  looked  him 
squarely  in  the  eye,  and  with  the  look  of  the  rock  of  Gibraltar,  if 
Gibraltar  ever  looked.  I  said,  "  It  cannot  mean  that  he  is  going  to 
propose  to  me;  he  has  just  come;  has  not  been  here  three  da3's." 
After  clearing  his  throat,  he  said: 

"Well,  Sister  Smith,  or  Mrs.  Smith,"  (emphasizing  the  Mrs.). 

"Yes,"  I  said. 

"Well,  I  have  come  to  Africa,  and  expect  to  make  it  my 
future  home.     I  have  not  come  to  go  back.     I  expect  to  die  here," 

Then  I  spoke  and  said,  "  I  don't  think  you  need  die  here  any 
sooner  than  you  would  in  the  United  States.  One  need  only  use 
his  common  sense,  and  go  a  little  slow  while  he  is  acclimating." 
Then  I  waited  for  the  next  shot. 

"  I  thought,"  he  continued,  "  I  would  ask  you  if  you  knew  of 
any  nice  colored  woman  that  you  think  would  make  me  a  good 
wife.  I  could  have  married  before  I  left  my  country,  or  America," 
(he  was  a  Swede);  "but  I  chose  to  wait  till  I  got  here;  and  I 
thought  it  would  be  better  for  me  to  marry  a  woman  of  the  coun- 
try, who  is  already  acclimated.  If  I  were  to  marry  a  white  woman, 
she  would  all  the  time  be  crying  to  go  home  to  see  her  aunt  or 
uncle,  or  her  mother,"  with  a  pretty  smile. 

I  groaned,  being  burdened,  to  give  vent  to  my  mingled  feel- 
ings. But  then  I  controlled  myself;  for,  during  the  time  he  talked, 
I  was  reading  him,  and  I  said  to  myself:  "  There  is  nothing  in  this 
man;  he  is  as  full  of  self  as  he  can  be,  and  he  is  going  to  be  a  fail- 
ure, if  not  a  disgrace,  to  Bishop  Taylor's  mission  here."  For  the 
work  was  just  starting,  and  was  new,  and  needed  much  careful 
guiding  and  management,  with  all  the  American  and  African  pre- 
judices against  this  new,  self-supporting  movement. 

"Mr.  Johnson,  I  know  some  very  nice  women  here,  who,  I 
think  would  make  good  wives  for  somebody;  but  I  would  not 
recommend  anyone  that  I  know,  to  do  what  I  would  not  do  myself; 
and  I,  myself,  would  not  marry  you,  or  any  other  man,  if  you  were 
gold;  a  rank  stranger,  just  come  from  another  country,  and  have 
not  been  here  three  days;  no  one  knows  anything  about  you;  you 


Amanda  Smith.  427 

know  nothing  ubout  the  people.  You  are  entirely  premature. 
You  will  need  to  be  here  some  time,  and  know  Africa  and  the  peo- 
ple. Then,  besides,  Bishop  Taylor's  self-supporting  mission  is  in 
its  infancy,  and  every  eye  is  upon  these  first  missionaries,  both 
here  and  at  home,  and  we  must  be  careful  that  we  do  nothing  that 
will  hinder  or  hurt  it  in  the  start." 

I  saw  that  my  version  of  things  did  not  take  very  well  with 
Brother  Johnson.  But  1  did  not  know  until  Wednesday  what  had 
gone  before. 

Mr.  Pratt's  wife's  sister,  a  very  nice  girl,  had  gone  to  help  in 
the  house,  as  Mrs.  Pratt  was  sick.  She  took  a  great  fancy  to  Mrs. 
Harnard  and  the  children,  and  had  offered  herself  to  Mrs.  Har- 
nard,  to  go  with  her,  to  take  care  of  the  children. 

It  appeared  that  when  Mr.  Johnson  came  ashore  on  Saturday, 
and  saw  this  girl  at  Mrs.  Pratt's,  he  was  struck  clear  through  at 
first  sight,. and  had  proposed;  and  she,  poor  thing,  thought  it  was 
splendid.  She  judged  from  outside  appearances;  for  Mr.  Johnson 
was  a  very  nice  looking  man,  nicely  dressed,  patent  leather  boots, 
shirt,  collar  and  necktie  exquisitely  beautiful,  and  she  thought 
she  had  a  fish  of  the  first  water.  1  suppose  she  had;  but  it  was 
bony. 

They  were  to  be  married  on  Thursday,  and  would  have  been, 
if  Mr.  Pratt  had  allowed  it.  When  he  found  it  out,  he  sent  the 
girl  home  to  her  father,  and  managed  to  hold  Brother  Johnson  in 
check  for  two  weeks. 

So  that  was  the  meaning  of  the  private  conversation  that  Mr. 
Johnson  wanted  with  me  Monday  evening.  But  he  did  not  come 
straight  out  and  tell  me.  I  was  glad  afterward  that  I  did  not 
know  anything  about  it,  and  that  I  talked  just,  as  I  did.  And,  not- 
withstanding all  that,  they  tried  to  say  that  T  was  favorable  to  it. 

They  were  married  at  the  Methodist  Church,  by  somebody,  I 
don't  remember  now  by  whom;  but  I  know  Brother  Harnard  did 
not  marry  them.  I  never  went  near;  because  I  was  so  busy  with 
my  sick  missionaries,  and  I  did  not  care  anyhow,  to  see  the  begin- 
ning of  the  thing;  I  was  more  interested  about  how  it  was  going  to 
come  out. 

Well,  it  turnea  out  just  as  I  said.  After  a  week  or  so  he  car- 
ried the  poor  thing  up  into  the  country  to  their  station.  She  had 
nothing,  and  he  had  nothing,  only  his  mission  supplies;  and  they 
had  used  the  best  part  of  those  for  their  marriage  feast,  no  one 


428  Autobiography  op 

made  them  any  feast,  or  gave  them  uny  presents,  as  they  do  in  this 
country'.     In  this  they  both  seemed  to  be  greatly  disappointed. 

Mr.  Johnson  seemed  to  think  if  he  only  married  a  colored  girl, 
he  being  a  white  man,  it  would  be  such  a  standing  proof  to  tlu> 
colored  people  that  he  really  loved  them,  that  they  would  take 
him  right  into  their  arms,  and  lavish  upon  them  their  wealth  and 
gifts;  especially  as  he  had  married  into  one6f  the  most  respectable 
families  in  CapePalmas;  the  daughter  of  the  Hon.  Mr.  H.  Gibson. 
Mj^!  he  thought  he  had  it.     And  so  he  had. 

Poor  girl!  I  knew  her  well.  She  had  been  converted  and  sanc- 
tified in  one  of  the  meetings  that  I  had  held,  and  had  grown  in 
grace,  and  was  developing  so  nicely,  and  was  one  of  our  good  work- 
ers in  the  Band  of  Hope  Temperance  work. 

When  I  knew  that  the  decree  was  passed  to  marrj'  Mr.  John- 
son, I  confess  I  was  disappointed  in  her;  for  I  really  gave  her  credit 
for  having  more  sense.  So  I  never  opened  my  head  to  her  on  the 
subject. 

Her  joy  and  delight  were  of  short  duration.  He  got  fever  and 
was  down  sick.  They  came  back  to  the  Cape.  I  went  to  see  him, 
and  did  w^hat  I  could. 

When  he  got  better  they  went  again  up  to  their  station.  The 
natives  received  them  gladly,  and  gave  them  a  bullock.  They  had 
their  mission  house  built  to  go  into.  But  everything  was  so  differ- 
ent from  what  it  was  in  America.  He  got  down  with  fever  again, 
and  again  they  returned  to  the  Cape.  I,  with  Brother  Pratt,  did 
everything  I  could  for  him  till  I  left. 

After  some  months  of  going  back  and  forth,  and  getting  down 
with  fever,  he  came  back  to  the  Cape  again,  and  took  the  first 
steamer  for  home,  and  left  his  wife  there,  to  live  or  die.  Poor 
thing!     In  less  than  a  jear  she  died. 

And  Brother  Johnson  — though  everything  was  done  for  him 
that  could  be  dona,  I  saw  him  after  this  in  Monrovia,  going  about 
from  house  to  house,  and  the  worst  thing  he  could  say  of  Bishop 
Taylor  and  his  self-supporting  mission  was  too  good. 

Of  course,  he  and  Mr.  Hillman,  and  Mr.  Astley,  had  all  gone 
over  to  the  Episcopal  Church;  and  it  seoms  that  one  of  the  surest 
marks  of  true  fidelity  to  that  church  is  to  ignore  and  denounce 
everybod}'  and  everything  in  the  church  that  has  fitted  them  for 
this  church  to  receive. 

The  last  time  I  saw  Brother  Johnson,  was  in  July,  '91,  at  the 


Amainda  Smith.  429 

Episcopal  Mission  at  Cape  Mount;  and  of  all  the  poor,  forlorn  looking 
creatures  that  I  had  seen  for  some  time,  he  seemed  most  to  be  pitied. 

I  have  said  it  was  not  always  a  matter  of  having  the  cash,  in 
order  to  get  on  in  Afdca,  for  there  were  times  when  you  couldn't 
get  things  even  with  the  cash. 

"Then  what  would  we  do  when  we  couldn't  get  the  things 
we  wanted  at  the  stores?  " 

Well,  we  would  just  have  to  wait,  and  do  the  best  we  could, 
till  a  steamer  came,  or  an  American  vessel;  sometimes  it  would  be 
a  week,  or  two,  or  three,  just  as  it  happened. 

'  *  How  did  we  get  on  ?  " 

Well,  that  is  a  diflBcult  question  to  answer  —  how  we  got  on. 
But  we  did  get  on;  we  would  just  call  up  the  old  mother  of  inven- 
tion, and  she  always  had  some  plan  to  help  us  out;  so  there  was  no 
necessity  of  getting  homesick  or  backsliding. 

I  never  was  homesick  but  about  five  minutes  the  whole  eight 
years  I  was  in  Africa;  and  that  was  one  day  when  I  was  reading 
an  account  in  the  "Christian  Standard"  of  a  wonderful  holiness 
meeting  held  at  old  John  Street,  New  York,  and  I  was  so  hungry 
for  such  a  spiritual  feast;  and  as  I  read  1  found  myself  saying, 
"  How  1  wish  I  were  there." 

When  I  thought  of  what  I  had  said  I  sprang  to  my  feet  and 
cried  out,  "Now,  Lord,  help  me,  for  I  know  I  am  right  in  the 
place  where  you  want  me,  and  it  is  all  right."  And  in  a  moment 
the  homesick  feeling  left  me. 

Then  once,  while  I  was  at  Miss  Sharpe's,  I  was  very  nearly 
homesick.  I  was  just  going  through  my  first  attack  of  fever,  and 
suffered  for  a  drink  of  cool  water.  Being  accustomed  to  having 
ice  in  this  country,  or  going  to  a  spring  or  pump  and  getting  a 
cool  drink,  I  felt  I  must  have  some  ice.  In  India  they  make  ice; 
so  while  there  I  could  get  ice  water;  but  they  don't  make  it  in 
Africa.  Sometimes  we  could  get  a  piece  oif  the  steamer;  but  only 
a  small  piece,  which  could  not  last  very  long;  and  generally  when 
one  wanted  it  most,  there  would  be  no  steamer  in;  so  one  must  do 
without  it. 

And  the  water  is  always  warm.  The  only  time  you  get  it 
cool  is  very  early  in  the  morning,  or  during  the  rainy  season.  In 
the  morning  it  would  be  a  little  cool,  but  if  you  drink  it  so  very 
early  you  will  be  very  apt  to  have  a  chill;  so  you  must  be  careful 
on  that  line. 


430  AUTOBIOGKAPHY   OF    AmANDA   SmITH. 

I  was  pretly  well  scorched  with  fever,  and  as  the  days  and 
nights  went  on,  and  nothing  cool  to  drink,  and  no  appetite  to  eat 
anything  I  could  get  to  eat,  I  craved  what  I  could  not  get. 

Plenty  could  be  got,  but  not  what  I  wanted.  1  wanted  a  nice 
broiled  mutton  chop,  basted  with  some  nice  hard  butter,  not  th.it 
soft,  oily  stuff  that  was  in  the  tins.  I  wanted  a  nice  baker's  roll, 
with  hard  butter  off  the  ice,  and  a  nice  cup  of  tea,  with  some 
fresh  cream,  not  condensed  milk. 

All  the  nice  things  that  I  ever  did  for  sick  people  when  I  lived 
in  a  rich  gentleman's  family  came  into  my  mind.  I  knew  exactly 
how  to  do  it;  I  had  done  it  for  others.  And  when  I  would  shut 
my  eyes  there  would  be  all  the  things  right  before  me.  I  could 
see  them  just  as  plain  as  could  be.  When  I  fell  into  a  little  doze 
of  sleep  they  would  haunt  me.  When  I  would  wake,  Oh!  how 
hungry  I  would  be  for  just  that;  I  wanted  nothing  else. 

It  was  not  the  question  of  money;  I  had  a  little,  and  would 
have  got  all  these  things,  but  they  were  not  there  to  be  got. 

So  one  night  I  prayed  nearly  all  night,  and  asked  the  Lord  to 
take  all  desire  out  of  me  for  everything  I  could  not  get,  and  help 
me  to  like  and  relish  just  what  I  could  get.  About  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning  1  fell  asleep,  and  woke  about  six;  and  every  bit  of 
desire  for  mutton  chop,  and  rolls,  and  hard  butter,  and  fresh 
cream  was  gone,  and  I  was  as  free  from  the  desire  as  if  I  had 
never  had  it.  I  laughed,  and  cried,  and  praised  the  Lord  for  His 
loving  mercy. 

No  one  who  has  not  had  the  experience  ccn  tell  anything 
about  what  it  means  to  be  weak,  and  sick,  and  hungry,  and  where 
you  cannot  get  a  little  of  what  your  appetite  craves.  But  our  God 
is  a  wonderful  deliverer.  And  then  the  grand  old  text  that  He 
gave  me  when  I  first  started,  "My  God  will  supply  all  of  your 
need," — how  true.     Praise  His  name.     Amen. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

CAPE   PALMAS^-HOW   I    GOT    THERE — BROTHER    WARE  —  BROTHER 
sharper's    EXPERIENCE  —  A   GREAT   REVIVAL. 

I  had  been  trying  to  get  to  Cape  Palmas  for  three  years  before 
I  reached  there.  Dear  Mr.  Harmon,  then  pastor  of  Mt.  Scott 
Methodist  Church,  had  so  kindly  written  for  me  to  come,  and  had 
arranged  for  me,  and  I  had  got  my  things  packed.  But  no  steamer 
called  at  Monrovia  that  would  stop  at  Cape  Palmas:  so  I  had 
waited  two  or  three  months. 

Then  a  rumor  came  that  small-pox  was  raging  at  Cape  Palmas; 
another  delay  for  me.  There  were  no  railways,  or  cable  cars  run- 
ning yet;  neither  were  there  livery  stables,  where  one  could  hire 
a  team.  These  are  things  that  are  yet  to  be;  until  then,  we  must 
wait,  and  of  course  pray  a  little.  However,  it  turned  out  all  right 
in  my  case. 

Brother  Harmon  died,  and  after  his  death  Reverend  Ware  had 
charge.  He  was  so  different  in  spirit  and  government  from 
Brother  Harmon.  He  had  treated  me  most  kindly  at  Monrovia, 
with  some  little  exceptions,  which  I  did  not  mind  so  much,  for 
when  it  came  to  temperance  and  holiness,  there  are  ministers  and 
laymen  in  this  country,  who,  notwithstanding  their  light  and 
privilege,  stand  just  where  he,  and  others,  stand  on  these  points. 

Then  he  was  very  bitterly  opposed  to  a  woman  preaching,  or 
taking  any  part  in  a  public  way.  He  had  a  very  high  apprecia- 
tion of  that  especial  text  of  Paul's:  "  Let  your  women  keep  silence 
in  the  churches,  and  if  they  would  know  anything,  let  them  ask 
their  husbands  at  home:"  and,  as  I  had  no  husband  at  home  to 
ask,  I  thought  according  to  my  orders  in  John,  I  had  my  author- 
ity from  the  words  of  the  Master: 

"Ye  have  not  chosen  me,  but  T  have  chosen  you.  and  ordained 
you,  that  you  might  go  and  bring  forth  fruit,  that  your  fruit 

(431) 


432  Autobiography  op 

might  remain,  and  that  whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  the  Father  in  my 
name,  He  may  give  it  you." 

Brother  Pitman  was  pastor  at  Monrovia  in  1882.  He  was  a 
prince  of  Israel.  A  great  loss  the  church  in  Liberia  has  sustained, 
and  one,  I  fear,  that  will  not  be  easily  replaced  in  Africa.  Never 
shall  I  forget  his  fatherly  kindness  to  me.  Peace  be  to  his  memory. 

So  it  was  fortunate  for  me  that  I  lived  at  Monrovia  when  he 
had  charge.  He  received  me  as  a  Christian  brother,  and  stood  by 
me  in  all  the  work  of  the  church,  in  the  revival  meetings,  prayer 
meetings,  and  week  night  preaching  services.  The  church  pros- 
pered under  his  administration.  The  Lord  was  with  us,  and  we 
had  a  blessed  time. 

Brother  Pitman  had  lived  in  America  several  years —  I  don't 
know  just  how  many — but  he  lived  in  thefamily  of  Dr.  Gracy,  who 
was  the  noble  editor  of  the  Northern  Christian  Advocate;  so  he  was 
quite  American  in  his  ideas,  but  nothing  of  the  pompous  sort. 
He  was  simply  a  true,  and  a  clear-headed,  logical  preacher.  How 
glad  we  were  when  he  preached.  Somebody  always  got  fed  on 
the  finest  of  the  wheat. 

He  had  sought,  and  clearly  obtained,  the  blessing  of  sanctifi- 
cation.  He  enjoyed  the  fulness  and  lived  the  life,  and  when  he 
preached,  it  was  in  demonstration  of  the  spirit  and  power. 

I  remember  one  Wednesday  night;  it  was  prayer  meeting 
night.  It  was  true  I  had  been  feeling  weak  and  poorly  all  day, 
but  somehow  I  felt  especially  led  to  go  to  meeting  that  night. 
The  distance  from  Sister  Payne's  (my  home)  was  not  very  long; 
about  two  blocks.  I  walked  very  slowly,  but  after  I  got  in  my 
back  was  weak,  and  pained  me  dreadfully,  so  that  I  said,  **!  wish 
I  hadn't  come."  But  I  felt  somehow  that  the  Lord  had  sent  me, 
so  I  prayed,  and  asked  Him  to  strengthen  me  for  the  word  He 
would  have  me  give,  if  I  spoke  at  all. 

Brother  Pitman  was  leading  the  meeting  that  night;  there 
was  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  way  of  things,  but  a  good  meet- 
ing. By  and  by  the  Spirit  prompted  my  heart  with  these  words: 
"With  the  mouth  confession  is  made  unto  salvation." 

I  was  impressed  that  God  meant  something  by  it,  yet  I  did 
not  know  just  how  I  was  going  to  be  led  in  speaking;  so  just  before 
the  meeting  closed  I  arose  and  said: 

"  Brother  Pitman,  I  feel  the  Lord  wants  me  to  speak  a  word." 

*'  Certainly,  Sister  Smith;  speak  on." 


Amanda  Smith.  483 

I  spoke  as  the  Lord  led  mo  on,  confessing  Christ,  and  what 
He  had  done  for  a  soul  definitely.  I  did  not  know  anything  about 
Brother  Pitman's  experience;  I  had  never  spoken  to  him  about  it, 
and  did  not  know  he  was  interested  in  the  subject  of  holiness  at 
all,  only  I  knew  he  seemed  to  possess  the  spirit  of  holiness;  I  felt 
it  in  his  conversation  and  preaching. 

After  I  was  through  I  took  my  seat.  Brother  Pitman  sprang 
to  his  feet  in  a  moment,  and  said,  "  The  Lord  has  sinit  that  mes- 
sage to  me;"  then  he  wenton  with  how,  some  three  mouths  before', 
as  m/arly  as  I  can  recollect,  he  had  received  this  distinct  blessing 
of  sanctification,  and  was  helped  wonderfully  to  see  the  way  clearly 
through  the  teaching  in  that  grand,  old,  pioneer  holiness  periodi- 
cal, "Guide  to  Holiness." 

*'  I  see  as  you  have  spoken,  Sister  Smith,"  he  continued,  "my 
mistake  has  been,  I  have  not  definitely  confessed  what  the  Lord 
has  done  for  me.  But  I  do  here  and  now  confess,  before  God  and 
these  people,  that  He  has  cleansed  and  sanctified  my  heart." 

And  from  that  time  forth,  he  never  swerved  from  preaching 
or  testifying  to  this  great  blessing,  definitely  sought  and  received 
by  faith. 

God  made  him  a  great  blessing  to  the  people  everywhere  he 
went.  I  believe  it  was  the  power  of  this  grace  that  enabled  him 
to  endure  as  he  did;  for,  being  a  thorough  native  of  the  Da  tribe, 
he  had  much  to  endure.  He,  like  Paul,  had  false  brethren  to 
contend  with.  How  my  heart  has  ached,  as  I  have  seen  and  heard 
things  that  would  have  kindled  a  blaze  that  would  have  been 
unquenchable  in  the  church  and  community;  but  he  was  patient 
and  triie,  through  all. 

Then,  I  think  it  was  in  1883,  Brother  Ware  had  charge.  The 
change  was  great.     Some  were  glad,  but  I  believe  most  were  sorry. 

But  he  and  I  got  on  nicely.  I  always  consulted  him  about  my 
meetings;  and,  to  my  face,  he  would  always  give  me  the  greatest 
liberty;  and  I  would  be  led  to  think  that  we  saw  together;  though 
he  did  not  often  take  much  part;  he  Avould  say: 

"  1  give  you  full  charge,  Sister  Smith,  whenever  you  want  to 
have  any  meetings.  Of  course  1  will  not  be  able  to  be  present 
at  all  of  them,  but  all  the  brethren  will  stand  by  you,  and  it  will 
be  all  right." 

I  would  have  afternoon  meetings  for  the  young  converts,  to 
instruct  them  in  Bible  lessons;  he  would  come  in  and   sit  way 


434  AUTOBIOGKAPHY  OP 

back,  and  listen,  but  that  was  all.  He  would  generally  go  out 
when  I  was  about  to  close.  I  went  on,  carefully,  but  I  went  on. 
And  God  surely  was  with  us,  and  blessed  us. 

I  went  to  Bassa  in  1885.  After  I  got  to  Bassa  and  met  the 
Bishop,  I  told  him  how  we  had  heard  at  Monrovia  that  he  was  to 
spend  three  months  in  that  region  round  about,  take  a  trip  to 
Bepora,  etc.  He  said  it  was  the  first  he  had  known  of  it;  that  he 
had  made  an  arrangement  with  a  certain  steamer  that  was  to  pick 
him  up  at  Bassa,  and  leave  him  at  CapePalmas,  and  said  this  was 
my  chance  to  go. 

"I  have  not  come  prepared  to  go  to  Cape  Palmas,*'  I  replied, 
"  but  I  have  been  waiting  for  three  years  to  go.  Just  when  I  got 
ready  some  months  ago,  word  came  that  there  was  small-pox 
there,  so  I  could  not  go." 

"Well,"  said  the  Bishop,  "this  is  your  chance,  Amanda." 

Just  then  dear  Brother  Pitman  came  in.  I  told  him,  and  he 
said,  "  I  think,  Sister  Smith,  this  is  your  chance." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "if  you  will  take  Frances  (my  liUle  native 
girl)  to  your  home  in  Paynesville,  and  keep  her  till  I  come  back,  I 
think  I  will  go.  Do  you  think  Sister  Pitman  will  care?  I  would 
go  and  see  her  myself,  if  I  could." 

"That  will  be  all  right,  Sister  Smith;  Frances  shall  fare  as 
the  other  children  do,  and  if  you  are  satisfied  with  that,  I  will 
take  her." 

Sister  Pitman  was  a  grand,  good  woman.  She  was  a  splendid 
housekeeper,  and  was  also  a  dressmaker  and  tailor.  The}'  never 
had  any  children  of  their  own,  but  all  the  native  boys  and  girls 
they  had  in  their  family  were  well  raised  and  well  trained;  and  I 
knew  Frances  would  fare  as  well  there  as  if  I  had  her  myself. 

May  God  ever  bless  Sister  Pitman.  How  I  sympathize  with 
her  in  her  loss. 

So  when  he  returned  from  the  Conference  in  Monrovia,  he  took 
her  with  him  to  his  home  at  Paynesville. 

I  think  it  was  on  Wednesday,  February  17th,  a  steamer  came 
to  Bassa.  The  Bishop  said  we  would  go.  I  had  but  little  to  get 
together;  only  just  what  would  do  me,  as  I  thought,  for  the  three 
weeks  I  had  planned  to  be  away.  So  I  had  to  send  for  my  things 
after  I  got  to  Cape  Palmas. 

When  we  went  to  get  into  the  boat  to  go  lo  the  steamer,  a 
messenger  came  to  say  the  captain  sent  word  he  would  not  stop  at 


Amanda  Smith.  435 

Cape  Palmas,  and  for  no  one  to  come  from  the  shore.  ''Oh, 
Bishop,"  I  said,  *'  what  will  you  do?  " 

•*  Oh,  we  will  just  go." 

♦♦Shall  I  go,  then?" 

♦*Oh,  yes,  come  on,"  he  said,  quietly,  but  with  such  perfect 
confidence.     I  just  held  my  breath,  and  did  as  I  was  told. 

The  man  remonstrated,  but  the  Bishop  said  to  the  men, 
♦♦Push  off;"  and  off  we  did  push.  When  we  got  alongside,  the  men 
aboard  the  steamer  hailed  us. 

♦♦Where  are  you  going?  " 

The  men  gave  the  word,  ♦'  To  Cape  Palmas." 

♦♦  We  are  not  going  to  stop  at  Cape  Palmas,"  one  of  the  officers 
shouted;  ♦'the  captain  sent  word  ashore." 

When  they  saw  Bishop  Taylor  was  a  white  man  they  let  down 
the  steps.  The  Bishop  said  he  wanted  to  see  the  captain.  It  was 
just  dinner  time  —  six  o'clock  —  when  we  got  on  board.  Of  course 
they  did  not  want  that  I  should  come  up;  but  the  Bishop  said  to  me 
quietly,  "Come  right  along,  Amanda." 

Brother  Turner,  one  of  the  Bishop's  missionaries,  a  genuine 
black  man,  who  had  been  out  but  about  two  years,  was  with  him. 
He  was  going  to  Sinoe.  We  kept  close  to  the  Bishop,  for  we  knew 
if  he  succeeded,  we  would. 

Oh!  how  vexed  the  officers  were.  But  of  course  they  said 
nothing  to  Bishop  Taylor.     They  were  civil  to  him. 

The  Bishop  had  no  baggage;  he  never  did  carry  any  about 
with  him  in  Africa;  simply  a  small  basket,  and  his  bed  rolled  up. 
To  look  at  it  you  would  think  it  was  a  surve3'or's  instruments;  that 
was  generally'  his  outfit.  But  some  of  the  rest  of  us  did  have 
something  in  the  shape  of  a  small  trunk.  When  the  officers  saw 
this  they  said; 

*♦  We  are  not  going  to  stop  at  Cape  Palmas;  don't  lift  the  bag- 
gage." 

So  I  stood  quietly  while  the  Bishop  went  in  to  see  the  cap- 
tain; or  rather  send  word  to  him,  and  there  was  a  pause  of  fifteen 
minutes,  or  so.  I  stood  trembling  in  my  boots  almost,  for  it  was 
about  five  miles  back  to  shore,  and  I  thought,  "  Oh,  dearie  me,  if  I 
have  got  to  go  back  in  this  darkness  all  alone !  "  So  I  said, '  'Oh !  Lord, 
help  the  Bishop,  and  bless  that  captain,  and  make  him  let  us  go." 

While  they  were  gone  with  a  message  to  the  captain,  I  slipped 
softly  up  to  the  Bishop,  and  said: 


436  AUTOBIOGKAPHY   OF 

"Bishop  do  you  think  we  will  have  to  go  back  to  shore?" 

**0h,  no,"  he  said,  in  perfect  confidence,  "it  will  be  all  right." 

And  sure  enough,  word  came  to  the  Bishop  from  frhe  captain: 

"All  right;  we  will  take  you." 

My!  didn't  I  whirl?  Dinner  I  I  didn't  want  any.  I  was  full 
of  joy  and  gladness.  I  hadn't  any  room  for  anything  else  until 
next  morning. 

Now,  then,  you  ma}'  say  what  you  please,  explain  it  as  you  like, 
but  if  Bishop  Taylor  had  not  been  a  white  man,  not  simply  a 
Bishop,  but  a  white  man,  as  sure  as  this  world,  we  would  have  had 
to  come  all  that  way  back  to  shore  in  the  night.  And  I  did  thank 
the  Lord  down  in  my  heart  for  a  white  Bishop  that  time. 

•     We  were  two  nights  and  a  day  on  the  vessel  and  arrived  at 
Cape  Palmas  about  ten  a.  m.  Friday. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  delight  of  the  dear  people  when  they 
saw  the  Bisop  and  myself.  The  children  crowded  around  like  he 
had  'been  a  father,  more  than  a  Bishop.  He  was  so  kind,  and 
shook  hands  with  them,  and  had  a  pleasant  word  for  all.  The 
little,  native  boys  danced  and  laughed,  and  seemed  so  glad. 

When  I  saw  the  Christian  spirit  so  manifest  among  the  people 
toward  the  Bishop  and  myself,  I  came  nearly  crying  out.  Oh!  it 
was  so  different  from  what  it  seemed  to  be  in  Bassa. 

We  were  conducted  from  the  landing  at  Cape  Palmas  to 
Sister  Harmon's;  she  received  us  gladly,  and  entertained  us 
kindly. 

Sunday  was  to  be  quarterly  meeting;  so  it  seemed  to  be  such 
a  propitious  time  for  us  to  arrive  just  then. 

Brother  Ware  had  notified  the  brethren,  and  the  Bishop  held 
his  quarterly  conference  Friday  afternoon  at  four  o'clock,  and 
preached  on  Saturday  night  to  a  full  congregation.  Of  course 
everybody  turned  out,  Baptists,  Episcopalians,  and  Methodists, 
(those  were  the  only  denominations  at  Cape  Palmas),  senators, 
lawyers,  deacons,  etc. 

Among  the  dignitaries  I  noticed  his  honor,  Bishop  Ferguson. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  him. 

.  But  everybody  seemed  to  be  interested  in  this  American 
Bishop.  And  he  preached  a  grand,  old-fashioned  Holy  Ghost 
sermon,  as  everybody  knows  he  can.  I  think  that  Bishop  Fer- 
guson was  rather  pleased,  until  he  heard  the  good  Bishop  speak  of 
Standing  on  a  hogshead,  in  California,  I  think  it  was,  and  preach- 


Amanda  Smith.  437 

ing  to  the  multitude.  Tho  idea  of  lowering  his  dignity!  He 
seemed  to  look  almost  disgusted. 

But  what  capped  the  climax  with  them,  after  the  Bishop  got 
through,  he  told  them  who  I  was,  and  spoke  some  kind  words  of 
me,  and  of  my  work,  and  told  them  if  they  would  stand  by  me  I 
would  do  them  good,  etc.  Then  he  said,  "  I  will  ask  Sister  Smith 
to  speak  a  few  words  to  you." 

I  lifted  my  heart  and  asked  tiie  Lord  to  help  me.  And  He 
did.     And  the  people  were  blessed. 

Poor  Bishop  Ferguson!  He  hung  his  head  all  the  time  I  was 
speaking,  and  went  out  as  soon  as  he  could;  and  I  don't  suppose 
he  has  heard  Bishop  Taylor  since. 

Poor  Brother  Ware  had  strong  proclivities  toward  that  church 
at  that  time.  His  eldest  son,  who  had  been  brought  up,  and 
trained  and  converted  in  the  Methodist  Church,  had  left  it,  and 
gone  over  to  the  Episcopal  Cliurch. 

And,  by  the  way,  that  is  one  good  thing  the  Methodist  Church 
has  done  in  Liberia;  for  if  she  has  not  done  so  much  in  the  con- 
version of  the  heathen,  she  has  certainly  done  her  part  in  furnish- 
ing workers  for  the  Episcopal  Church.  I  don't  believe  they  have 
a  single  worker,  except  a  few  among  the  natives;  for  the  matron 
in  their  orphanage,  the  teachers  in  their  schools,  or  the  workers 
on  their  farms,  come  out  of  the  Methodist  Church;  and  those  in 
the  church  that  know  anything  about  real  conversion,  have  been 
converted  or  sanctified  in  the  Methodist  Church;  so  if  ever  a 
church  ought  to  thank  God  for  Methodism  in  Africa,  notwith- 
standing her  faults  and  failings,  it  ought  to  be  this  church! 

But  strange  to  say,  they  do  not;  but,  like  the  Jesuits,  they 
cease  not  day  or  night,  in  every  possible  way,  to  disturb  and 
proselyte. 

I  tried  my  best  to  be  as  unselfish  as  T  could,  and  show  in  every 
possible  way  that  I  was  a  Christian  and  had  no  other  object  than 
to  help  everybody  I  could,  in  every  way  I  could.  I  did  not  advo- 
cate a  new  doctrine,  or  start  a  new  church.  I  told  the  people  this 
was  not  my  errand  in  Africa.  There  were  churches  enough 
already.  All  that  was  needed  was  the  spirit  of  full  consecration 
to  God,  and  a  baptism  for  real  service. 

When  I  began  my  temperance  work  in  Cape  Palmas  I  wrote 
Bishop  Ferguson,  and  the  several  ministers  in  his  diocese,  and  sent 
them  our  pledge  card,  and  tracts,  and  our  constitution  and  by- 


438  Autobiography  op 

laws,  so  that  they  might  see  for  themselves  what  I  was  trying  to 
do;  that  it  was  nothing  in  the  corner,  or  in  the  dark;  that  they 
might  know  exactly  what  I  was  teaching  among  the  people;  and  I 
asked  his  honor,  the  Bishop,  if  he  would  be  kind  enough  to 
preach  a  sermon  and  explain  my  object;  as  I  knew  how  the  people 
in  general  are  given  to  extravagance  in  trying  to  tell  anything. 

As  this  was  Gospel  temperance,  to  help  Christian  men  and 
women  on  to  a  higher  platform  of  Christian  character  and  Christ- 
ian life,  it  never  entered  my  head  but  they  would  be  willing  to  co- 
operate on  this  platform,  as  it  was  purely  undenominational, 
and  had  met  such  favor  in  England  and  America  while  on  this 
basis. 

But  the  good  Bishop  replied  in  a  short  note,  saying  he  would 
consider  the  matter,  and  let  me  know  later  on.  In  a  few  days  he 
wrote  me  a  great,  lengthy  epistle  of  five  or  six  pages;  beautifully 
written,  for  he  certainly  wrote  a  beautiful  hand.  But  I  must  con- 
fess the  best  thing  about  that  letter  was  the  beautiful  handwrit- 
ing. A  regular  General  Conference  document,  saying  he  could 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  subject  I  had  written  him  about,  and 
pointing  out  a  clause  in  our  Methodist  discipline,  saying  that  was 
all  that  was  needful. 

Well,  I  was  ashamed  to  say  anything  about  it  except  to  one  or 
two  persons;  for  I  had  always  heard  him  spoken  so  highly  of;  and 
I  was  proud  of  him,  being  a  black  Bishop;  and  knowing  that  he 
knew  the  condition  and  the  suffering  among  the  poor  natives  on 
account  of  strong  drink,  and  among  the  Liberians  as  well,  I  thought 
I  had  a  right  to  hope  for,  at  least,  sympathy. 

Perhaps  I  would  not  have  thought  much  about  it  if  he  had 
been  a  white  man.  But  I  find  that  human  nature  is  the  same  in 
black  men,  even  in  Africa,  as  in  white  men  in  America.  It  is  the 
same  old  story  everywhere:  "  None  but  Jesus  can  do  helpless  sin- 
ners good." 

Well,  the  Lord  helped  me,  and  I  went  on  with  the  work,  and 
men  and  women,  young  and  old,  some  of  all  the  denominations, 
joined  in.  But  his  position  toward  it  had  its  effect,  which  is 
natural. 

So,  poor  Brother  Ware,  with  his  Episcopal  proclivities,  and 
underlying  all  a  strong  desire  to  be  a  Bishop,  had  got  all  the 
official  board  so  fully  over  to  his  side  in  regard  to  a  woman  taking 
a  public  part  in  a  meeting,  and  had  filled  them  so  with  prejudice, 


4^Q 
Amanda  Smith. 

set  before  you  an  open  door,  and  no  man  shall  shut  .1.       How 
-to^;e\  W^wt  nt tell,  so  did  not  .e.  .0^^^^^^^^^^^ 

What  a  sermon!  I  suppose  they  had  never  heard  anything  l.Ue  >t. 
<^nrplv  the  Lord  of  Hosts  was  with  us. 

?ut  after  the  consecration  of  the  elements  for  the  sacramen  , 
as  the  Bishop  las  about  to  proceed  in  administering  or  pass.ng  ,, 
the  steamer  signalled,  and  the  good  ^ishoP  was  no  .fled  th^a  h 
must  leave.     He  had  already  announced  that  he  was  to  preach  to 
The  vom,"  people  and  children  at  three  P.  M.,  and  had  asked  all 

*•"'".'■;. «."':':;;.. »«. ».. ... ...»«« i.  •■  -« ■•  '- 

cat  got  out!  rr.v.Qt  Hin't  no  so-so 

-Great  Lord,  that  woman  can  preach.     That  am 

talk.     God  is  in  that  woman."  ..  Whit  is  the  matter 

And  so  it  went  the  rounds.     They  said,      W  hat^is 

with  Brother  Ware?  Why  don't  he  ^^^  ^e^--^  \^^^  ^3,,,,  ,i^ 
Then  a  number  of  the  brethren  called  on  him,  ana  as, 

to  give  me  an  appointment,  as  they  al,  wanted  to  hear  me  speaU. 


440  Autobiography  of 

But  that,  I  think,  made  it  worse.  I  called  on  him.  He  seemed 
pleasant  and  treated  me  kindly,  but  never  said  a  word  to  me  about 
taking  a  meeting.  For  two  weeks  then  I  went  on  quietly,  holding 
afternoon  meetings  and  giving  Bible  readings  on  the  subject  of 
consecration  and  holiness.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  wonder- 
ful blessing  at  Cape  Palmas. 

At  the  expiration  of  two  weeks,  Brother  Ware  was  obliged  to 
leave  for  Monrovia;  but  he  called  his  local  brethren.  Brother  Os 
Tubman,  old  Father  Jenkins,  Brother  Dennis,  Brother  Thompson, 
who  was  Vice-President  of  the  Republic  and  a  local  preacher. 
Brother  Sharper,  and  Brother  Bowen,  who  had  the  pastoral  charge 
of  the  church  at  Mt.  Tubman. 

No  one  of  these  brethren  were  to  give  their  appointments  to 
any  one,  under  penalty  of  having  to  answer  at  the  quarterly  con- 
ference.    Some  of  them  said: 

"  Brother  Ware,  we  believe  Sister  Smith  is  a  woman  of  God, 
and  she  came  here  with  Bishop  Ta3ior.  He  knows  her,  and  en- 
dorses her,  and  we  ought  to  give  her  a  chance." 

^  But  his  reply  was,  "  I,  and  not  Bishop  Taylor,  am  pastor  of  the 
church." 

So,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  Medesand  Persians,  the  decis- 
ion must  not  be  altered. 

Another  week  had  passed,  and  it  had  come  Saturday.  With 
all  that  was  said,  I  kept  quiet,  and  said  but  little  toan}-  one.  Some 
of  the  people  wanted  to  know  if  there  was  smy  misunderstanding 
between  me  and  Brother  Ware. 

"  No,  nor  there  never  has  been,  as  I  know  of." 

T  must  confess  it  was  a  little  embarrassing  to  me;  but  it  helped 
me  to  see  God  as  I  had  never  seen  Him  before.  Out  of  all  these 
brethren,  there  was  not  one  of  them  who  dared  give  me  an  appoint- 
ment, except  old  Father  Dennis.  He  was  a  man  of  strong  moral 
courage  and  good,  broad  common  sense;  a  highly  intelligent  man; 
and  he  knew  every  weak  spot  in  the  whole  government,  as  well  as 
the  strong;  and  he  knew  the  discipline  of  the  Methodist  Church 
as  well,  if  not  better,  than  any  other  man  in  the  Republic;  and, 
notwithstanding  all  this,  he  was  ver}'  peculiar,  and.  withal,  eccen- 
tric. So  he  said  to  some  of  the  brethren,  that  if  Ware  wanted  to 
have  him  up  in  the  quarterly  conference  for  giving  his  appoint- 
ment, he  might  do  it.     He  did  not  care. 

He  came  to  me  on  Saturday,  and  asked  me  if  I  would  go  to 


Amanda  Smith.  441 

Mt.  Tubman,  which  was  about  two  miles  from  Latrobe,  and  take 
his  appointment;  he  was  not  feeling  very  well,  anyhow. 

I  told  him,  "Yes,  I  would." 

"  The  brethren  tell  me  that  Brother  Ware  will  have  me  up  for 
it;  and  T  told  them  I  didn't  care." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "if  you  are  willing  to  risk  it,  I  will  go." 

So  I  went  out  on  Saturday  afternoon.  Sister  Harmon  and  I. 

Mt.  Tubman  is  a  beautiful  spot.  How  plain  I  seem  to  see  the 
little  church  on  the  hill.  What  times  of  blessing  I  have  had;  and 
this  man,  and  that  man  were  born  there. 

I  was  not  very  strong,  so  they  arranged  that  Sister  Harmon 
and  I  should  go  out  in  the  carriage.  So,  in  a  little  while  we  were 
ready.  The  carriage  drove  up,  with  a  nice  little  black  bullock, 
and  we  were  soon  seated,  and  off.  But  we  had  not  gone  far,  when 
the  bullock  began  to  cut  African  capers. 

First  he  backed  and  then  he  ran  up  on  one  side  of  the  bank, 
and  came  near  tumbling  the  carriage  over.  Then  we  got  him 
down  and  he  went  on  a  little  ways,  then  he  made  another  break 
at  the  other  side  of  the  road,  and  then  he  stopped.  I  thought  it 
was  a  good  chance  to  dismount;  and  so  I  did,  and  footed  it  the  bal- 
ance of  the  way,  which  was  more  than  half  way. 

I  went  to  Brother  Bowen's  and  stayed  all  night.  How  kind 
Brother  and  Sister  Bowen  were.  They  did  all  they  could  to  make 
me  comfortable.  I  could  see  that  Brother  Bowen  was  a  little  em- 
barrassed, as  he  was  pastor.  He  said,  "Brother  Ware's  orders 
were  that  the  brethren  should  take  their  appointments  in  order." 
But,  Brother  Bowen  was  a  good  man,  and  had  good  sense,  and 
was  reasonable;  but  he  was  a  little  afraid  of  his  superior. 

I  talked,  and  sang,  and  told  him  many  things  about  his  own 
country  for  he  had  gone  to  Liberia  when  quite  a  young  man. 
Many  of  his  friends  would  come  in;  then  they  would  go  out  and 
seem  to  have  a  quiet  talk  together.  I  prayed.  I  knew  I  had  not 
gone  myself,  but  that  God  had  sent  me;  and  I  waited  to  see  Him 
get  the  victory. 

Sunday  morning  came.  There  was  a  splendid  congregation. 
Just  as  it  was  time  to  open  the  service,  who  should  come  in  but 
dear,  old  Brother  Dennis. 

I  saw  Brother  Bowen  was  glad.  He  at  once  asked  him  to  take 
the  service;  and  he  got  up  and  said  he  had  asked  me  to  come  out 
there  and  take  his  appointment,  as  he  was  not  very  well;  then, 


443  Autobiography  op 

in  the  morning,  as  he  felt  better,  he  thought  he  had  better  come, 
out  and  explain,  for  he  knew  the  Methodist  discipline,  and  ht-  was 
not  afraid  of  anybody.  Everj^body  knew  that  was  old  man  Dennis, 
and  it  was  all  true. 

So  that  was  my  introduction.  If  ever  I  prayed  for  God  to  help 
me,  I  did  that  day.  And  He  did.  Then  I  stayed  and  took  part  in 
the  class  meeting  after  the  service.  Then  I  addressed  the  Sabbath 
School,  and  took  the  service  at  night.  The  church  was  crowded. 
Oh!  how  the  Lord  helped  me  to  speak.  I  thought,  "  This  is  m}' 
last  da}^  here,  so  I  will  do  everything  T  can." 

After  I  was  through  speaking  at  night  I  gave  the  invitation  to 
sinners  to  come  forward  and  seek  the  Lord;  and  almost  immedi- 
ately eight  men  came  forward;  four  were  converted  that  night. 

I  thought  that  my  strength  was  gone;  but  it  seemed  to  me 
that  God  gave  me  a  double  portion.  I  had  no  further  trouble  with 
Brother  Bowen. 

The  news  spread  like  wildfire.  The  people  came  from  all 
directions.  We  went  on  for  two  weeks  without  a  break.  We  had 
several  all  night  meetings,  and  all  day.  In  that  meeting  some  old 
men  were  converted  that  were  never  known  to  pray,  or  be  serious 
before.  I  went  to  see  them  from  house  to  house,  and  sat  down 
and  talked  with  them,  and  explained  the  way  of  faith.  Oh!  how 
God  put  his  seal  on  the  work.  This  was  the  beginning.  In  this 
meeting  Charlie  Gray  and  Brother  Cox  were  sanctified. 

I  had  worked  hard,  and  was  so  weary  1  thought  I  must  come 
home  for  a  rest.     So  on  Monda}'  I  came  home  to  Sister  Harmon's. 

Now,  the  two  weeks'  Bible  readings  that  I  had  held  prior  to 
going  to  Mt.  Tubman,  had  laid  a  foundation,  and  God  had  blessed 
the  people. 

Tuesday  night  was  the  praj'er  meeting  night.  I  had  had  a 
little  rest  on  Monday  after  I  got  home,  and  on  Tuesday  night 
was  the  prayer  meeting  at  Mt.  Scott  Church.  Brother  Thompson 
called  and  asked  me  if  I  would  lead  prayer  meeting  that  night.  I 
told  him  I  was  very  weary  and  needed  a  rest.  But  he  said  he 
would  be  glad  if  I  would  take  it.  I  told  him  I  would  do  the  best  I 
could.  I  was  so  very  weak,  but  I  asked  the  Lord  to  strengthen 
me,  as  I  did  so  often.  Oh!  how  many  times  He  has  heard  and 
answered  that  prayer.  Blessed  be  His  name.  That  night  the 
work  began  at  Latrobe.  And  what  a  tidal  wave  swept  all  over 
Cape  Palmas.     Oh!  it  was  wonderful. 


Amanda  Smith.  443 

I  have  gone  to  the  church  at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  to  hold 
a  prayer  meeting  before  preaching,  and  have  never  gone  outside 
the  door  till  six  next  morning. 

When  we  did  go  in  for  salvation  we  didn't  play,  but  went  in. 
God  converted  sinners,  reclaimed  backsliders,  and  sanctified  and 
established  believers.  ^      ,     -      i 

The  Baptists  fought  a  little.  They  were  very  firmly  fixed. 
Once  in  grace,  alwavs  in  grace,  no  matter  what  you  say  or  do^ 
But  with  all  the  opposition,  God's  chariot  rolled  on;  and  many  of 
them  were  brought  to  realize  the  power  of  Jesus,  and  were  saved 

fully.     Glory  to  Jesus.  , ,  ,       , 

How  well  I  remember  Brother  Sharper,  one  of  our  old  local 
preachers.  He  was  a  man  of  more  than  ordinary  intelligence 
and  good,  broad,  common  sense.  He  was  one  of  the  best  ocal 
preachers  we  had.  He  had  a  nice,  comfortable,  little  home  of  his 
own,  and  a  very  nice  wife  and  baby  boy.  When  I  first  held  my 
Bible  readings  Brother  Sharper  became  very  much  interested  in 
the  subject  of  holiness.  The  Holy  Spirit  convicted  him  of  his 
need  of  a  clean  heart.  He  was  a  man  of  high  moral  character  and 
Christian  integrity,  and  stood  high  in  the  community  and  the 

church.  .  ,      ...  ...  ^ 

When  the  Spirit  of  God  got  hold  of  his  conscience,  he  did  like 
somanv;  he  began  to  reason  with  himself:  "  I  know  I  am  convicted, 
and  I  have  been  a  Christian  all  these  years,  and  I  will  just  go  on 
growing  in  grace,  and  purity  will  come." 

But,  poor  man,  he  had  it  wrong  end  first!  The  very  best  chance 
for  growing  in  grace,  really  and  successfully,  is  to  get  the  cleans- 
ing and  all  obstruction  to  growth  out.     As  the  Psalmist  suggests: 
-The  clean  heart,  then  the  teaching  of  transgressors  Thy  way. 
The  Psalmist  had  it  right.     Praise  the  Lord. 

Poor  Brother  Sharper  used  to  come  to  the  Bible  readings,  but 
all  at  once  I  missed  him.  He  didn't  come.  I  would  call  around 
at  his  house  and  have  a  little  chat.  T  didn't  bore  him.  He  was 
always  glad  to  see  me,  and  always  had  a  good  reason  for  not  com- 
ing to  the  meeting.  . 

He  was  a  most  inveterate  smoker,  but  he  never  let  me  see  him 
with  his  pipe  in  his  mouth.  He  was  much  of  a  gentleman  in  his 
bearing.  On  Sunday  I  had  been  calling  on  some  friends  on  the 
next  street;  on  my  way  home  I  called  in.  and  there  was  Brother 
Sharper  in  his  nice  little  home,  all  alone,  his  Bible  on  a  chair  b> 


444  Autobiography  of 

him,  and  his  pipe.  He  had  read  and  smoked  and  fallen  asleep. 
When  I  called  to  him,  poor  fellow,  how  embarrassed  he  was.  I 
saw  it,  and  tried  to  help  him  by  asking  him  what  he  was  reading, 
particularly.     He  laughed  and  said: 

"Sister  Smith,  I  didn't  mean  for  you  to  see  me  with  that  old 
pipe." 

"  Oh,  no  matter,"  I  said,  "you  and  the  Lord  will  settle  it  by 
and  by." 

So,  after  a  little  chat,  I  went  home  to  pray  and  ask  the  Lord 
to  deliver  Brother  Sharper.  He  began  coming  to  the  meetings,  but 
seemed  depressed.  And  he  didn't  stay  till  the  close  of  the  meet- 
ings. But  one  night  at  prayer  meetings,  I  was  leading,  and  I  asked 
any  one  who  had  the  desire  to  seek  the  blessing  of  a  clean  heart  to 
come  and  kneel  at  the  altar.  A  number  came;  among  others. 
Brother  Sharper.  He  came  like  he  meant  business.  He  was  not 
a  demonstrative  or  emotional  man,  and  when  I  saw  him  kneel  and 
clutch  the  altar  railing,  I  said  to  myself,  "Sharper  is  in  for  it." 

One  and  another  prayed  for  themselves,  and  God  set  them  at 
liberty.     Oh!  what  a  meeting  it  was! 

Brother  Sharper  groaned  and  struggled.  It  came  to  a  close 
about  eleven  o'clock.  A  number  had  got  blessed,  and  we  arose 
and  sang  the  doxology.  Brother  Sharper  had  not  moved  from  his 
position.     But  I  knew  the  Lord  would  take  care  of  him. 

Just  as  we  were  about  to  sing,  Brother  Sharper  sprang  to  his 
feet  and  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice: 

"But  you  must  go  through!  You  must  go  througn!  Victory! 
Victory!  •  Victory! " 

He  went  over  the  tops  of  the  seats  like  a  streak  of  light.  T 
tried  to  catch  him.  I  was  afraid  he  would  kill  himself.  But  he 
swung  from  my  grasp  as  though  he  had  been  oiled.  Oh!  what  a 
shout.  When  that  tremendous  wave  had  passed  over,  he  calmed 
down  as  quiet  as  a  lamb,  and  he  smiled.  He  was  a  handsome  man 
anyhow:  but  this  night  he  looked  beautiful. 

He  stood  up  in  front  by  the  altar  and  faced  the  congregation, 
and  said: 

"Sister  Smith,  I  want  to  tell  what  the  Lord  has  done  for  me. 
I  have  had  an  awful  struggle  for  days  over  this  question.  I  thought 
I  would  stay  away  from  the  meetings;  but  that  didn't  help  me. 
And  you  know  the  Sunday  you  were  around  to  my  house,  and 
caught  me  with  the  Bible  and  my  pipe?" 

"Yes,"  I  said. 


Amanda  Smith.  445 

"  Woll,  there  was  where  I  stuck;  but  I  thought  if  I  did  every- 
thing else  all  right,  the  Lord  would  not  require  me  to  give  up  my 
pipe;  and  I  did  not  know  it  was  such  an  idol  until  I  tried  to  give 
it  up.  Oh!  how  it  held  me.  You  know  I  love  my  wife  and  child; 
but  I  felt  I  could  give  up  either  of  them  easier  than  I  could  give 
up  my  pipe.  I  would  smoke,  the  last  thing  before  I  went  to  bed, 
and  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  and  sometimes  I  w^ould  get  up 
two  or  three  times  in  the  night  to  have  a  smoke;  and  if  there  was 
not  a  match,  or  fire,  in  the  house  to  light  my  pipe,  I  would  walk  a 
mile  to  get  it. 

"  The  other  night  I  lay  down  and  fell  into  a  doze  of  sleep;  and 
I  dreamed  T  saw  a  great  host  marching.  They  were  divided  into 
two  companies.  Oh!  such  singing  I  never  heard.  It  was  wonder- 
ful! The  sanctified  host  was  ahead,  and  outsang  the  justified 
host.  As  they  marched  they  sang.  I  stood  and  looked  at  them. 
I  said,  well,  I  will  join  the  justified  company.  They  will  get  in, 
too,  just  as  well  as  the  others.  So  I  joined  in  the  song  with  them, 
for  I  wanted  them  to  keep  up  with  the  host  ahead.  Oh !  how  I  sang 
with  all  my  might;  but  the  sanctified  host  seemed  to  out-sing  us. 

"In  our  march  we  came  to  a  culvert  in  the  road,  and  I  thought 
'  I  will  watch  and  see  how  they  get  through  there.'  I  saw  when 
they  got  up  to  it,  they  all,  with  one  accord,  bowed  low,  and  went 
through,  and  struck  up  their  song  on  the  other  side.  And  when 
the  justified  company  came  up  to  the  culvert,  they  stopped,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  quite  a  contention  about  how  to  get  through. 
But  not  one  of  them  stooped.  After  a  while  they  divided,  and 
walked  around  on  either  side,  and  went  on.  When  I  came  up  to 
it  I  started  to  go  round,  first  on  the  right;  but  a  voice  confronted 
me  and  said,  'but  you  must  go  through.'  Then  I  made  an  effort  to 
go  to  the  left;  and  again  a  voice  said,  'but  you  must  go  through.' 
so  I  tried  the  third  time,  and  again  the  same  words,  'but  you  must 
go  through.'  And  glory  to  God,  the  tobacco  is  gone,  and  I  have 
got  through! " 

As  he  stood  and  told  that  wonderful  experience,  which  beg- 
gars description,  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  fell  on  the  people,  and  it 
was  wonderful. 

Poor  Brother  Sharper  preached  with  a  power  and  unction 
that  he  had  not  known  before.  And  the  last  I  heard  of  him,  he 
was  at  one  of  Bishop  Taylor's  mission  stations  on  the  j-iver,  work- 
ing foj  God. 


446  Autobiography  op 

The  meeting  went  on,  and  many  of  the  natives  got  saved. 
John  Yancy  got  saved. 

One  night  we  were  singing  that  victorious  hymn,  I  call  it  (for 
when  it  is  sung  properly,  it  generally  carries  blessing  with  it) — 

"Ah!  many  years  my  longing  heart 
Had  sighed,  had  longed  to  know 
The  virtue  of  the  Savior's  blood, 
That  washes  white  as  snow." 

"  There  is  power  in  Jesus'  blood, 
There  is  power  in  Jesus'  blood. 
There  is  power  in  Jesus'  blood, 
To  wash  me  white  as  snow." 

I  had  sung  this  hymn  in  the  meetings,  and  the  people  had 
learned  it,  and  they  could  sing  it  as  only  colored  people  can  sing. 
John  Yancy  had  been  seeking  the  blessing  for  several  weeks.  He 
was  converted,  and  had  been  a  consistent  member  of  the  church 
for  two  years  or  more.  But,  as  he  said,  "He  felt  that  God  had 
something  more  for  him;"  and  as  he  sat  in  the  church  that  night, 
while  we  were  singing,  the  Holy  Ghost  fell  on  him.  Oh!  how  he 
shouted. 

"Oh!  yes,  there  is  power  in  Jesus'  blood  to  wash  me  white  as 
snow.  Yes,  there  is  power  in  the  blood.  Yes,  there  is  power  in 
Jesus'  blood." 

Every  time  he  said  it  it  went  like  an  electric  shock  through 
the  house,  and  the  people  seemed  to  be  swayed  by  the  mighty 
power. 

Everybody  believed  in  John  Yancy's  sanctification.  The 
people  all  had  known  him  from  a  little  boy.  He  was  raised  righi 
up  there  among  them.  And  I  never  heard  a  soul  express  a  doubl 
about  John  Yancy's  life  and  testimony.  He  was  a  rank,  native, 
heathen  boy,  born  in  heathenism.  He  had  been  brought  out  of 
the  country,  and  the  most  of  his  raising,  and  where  he  took  his 
name,  was  from  Mr.  Allen  Yancy,  a  good  man,  formerly  of 
America.  God  wonderfully  sanctified  him,  and  his  dear  wife,  also, 
shortly  after  John  got  the  blessing. 

On  Friday  night,  the  last  night  of  our  meeting  for  the  week, 
there  were  several  very  interesting  cases  who  were  seeking  pardon; 
but  they  had  not  come  out  into  the  clear  light.  One  was  a  Congo 
man.     I  felt  very  anxious  about  them,  lest  Satan  should  get  the 


Amanda  Smith.  447 

advantage  of  them.     I  was  very  weary  in  body,  but  on  Saturday 
afternoon,  I  thought  I  must  go  and  see  after  those  seekers. 

Where  this  Congo  man  lived,  was  on  the  back  street,  as  they 
called  it;  and  the  people  who  lived  on  that  street  were  nearly  all 
Congos,  with  the  exception  of  two  or  three  families.  It  was  not 
one-  of  the  prominent  streets,  but  it  was  the  prettiest  street,  I 
thought,  in  Cape  Palmas.  It  was  wide,  and  had  several  very 
pretty,  little  cottages  on  it. 

I  found  the  place  where  the  man  lived.  He  was  sitting  in  his 
own  yard,  under  a  pretty  arbor,  talking  to  some  one.  He  was 
qi|te'  surprised  ^o  see  me.  But  I  told  him  why  I  came.  I  told 
hmi  I  was  anxious  about  him,  as  he  was  seeking  the  Lord. 

So  I  sat  down,  took  out  my  Testament,  and  began  to  read  and 
explain  a  few  passages  of  Scripture  on  faith,  and  how  to  exercise 
it.  The  Lord  helped  me,  and  helped  the  man.  Then  I  sang;  and 
in  a  little  while  I  had  a  number  of  earnest  listeners  around  me. 
Then  I  prayed. 

This  was  all  right  out  in  the  yard.  When  this  was  finished  I 
thought  I  would  go  home;  but  a  woman  said: 

"Mrs.  Smith,  there  is  some  one  in  such  a  house,  sick,  who 
wants  to  know  if  you  will  come  and  pray  with  him." 

So  I  went  with  the  woman.  I  talked,  and  read  the  blessed 
Word  and  explained  it  as  the  Spirit  led  me;  then  prayed,  sang  a 
verse,  and  left. 

When  I  got  downstairs,  a  little  girl  came  and  said  her  mother 
was  sick  and  had  heard  the  singing,  and  had  sent  to  beg  me  to 
come,  if  but  for  a  moment.  So  I  did.  And  so  I  went  on  and  made 
eight  calls  of  the  same  kind,  and  prayed,  and  sang,  and  talked. 

The  Lord  blessed  this  poor,  sick  woman;  and  ashort  time  after 
thisshedied.  Sister  Harmon  and  all  wondered  what  had  become 
of  me;  for  I  had  left  home  at  four  o'clock  to  be  gone  only  an  hour 
or  two,  as  I  thought;  but  I  didn't  get  home  until  eight  o'clock  in 
the  evening.  The  cases  were  so  interesting,  and  I  got  so  absorbed 
and  carried  away,  that  I  forgot  all  about  my  weariness  and  weak- 
n>'ss  till  I  got  home  and  sat  down.  Then  it  came  over  me  like  a 
great  wave;  and  I  trembled  like  a  reed  in  the  wind. 

As  I  think  of  it  now,  I  wonder  how  1  ever  went  through  all  I 
did.  Sometimes  I  have  started  to  church  feeling  so  weak,  and  I 
have  prayed  every  step  of  the  way;  and  there  have  been  timt'S 
when  I  have  stood  up  to  speak,  I  have  felt  as  it  were  a  hand  press 


448  Autobiography  op 

my  back,  and  seem  to  hold  me  up  while  I  would  deliver  the  mes 
sage  to  the  people.  Blessed  be  the  name  of  God.  How  well  1 
know  His  mighty  touch  of  strength  and  power. 

There  was  a  Mrs.  Delia  Williams,  whose  house  I  went  into 
and  prayed  that  afternoon,  on  this  same  street. 

Just  inside  her  gate,  in  the  yard,  there  stood  a  beautiful  bread 
fruit  tree.  As  I  passed  out  I  said,  "that  would  be  a  nice  tree 
to  hold  a  little  meeting  under." 

"Oh!  Mrs.  Smith,"  she  said,  "will  you  come  here  and  hold  a 
meeting  for  us  here  on  this  street?  We  need  it.  These  people  do 
not  go  to  church  much.     They  will  not  go." 

This  woman  was  what  you  might  call  a  kind  of  half  way 
^  Christian.     She  belonged  to  the  church,  but  she  was  not  straight. 

She   was  always  seeming  to  seek  peace,  but  could  not  find  it,} 
'^because  she  did  not  give  up  to  God.)  Poor  thing,  she  was  good- 
hearted,  and  wanted  to  see  everybody  get  all  the  good  they  could. 
So  I  said  to  her: 

"  I  will  see  about  it,  and  let  you  know.  Of  course  that  bush 
there  in  the  street  would  have  to  be  cleared  awa3^" 

"Oh!"  she  said,  "if  you  will  come,  I  will  have  that  done. 
And  I  can  put  a  table  and  some  chairs  out,  and  put  some  mats 
down. 

"I  might  come  Monday,"  I  said;  "but,  however,  don't  do 
anything  until  you  hear  from  me." 

I  kept  very  quiet.  I  never  told  even  Mrs.  Harmon's  people.  I 
knew  if  the  word  was  said,  the  people  that  considered  themselves 
not  Congos  would  all  come,  and  my  purpose  to  do  these  non-church- 
going  people  good  would  be  lost. 

But  somehow  it  got  out;  first  thing  I  knew  Monday,  somebody 
came  to  me  and  said,  "Mrs.  Smith,  I  hear  you  are  to  hold  a  meet- 
ing on  the  back  street  this  afternoon." 

"Who  said  so?" 

"Well,"  they  suid,  "  Delia  Williams  has  had  the  bush  all  cut 
down,  and  they  are  getting  ready  over  there,  and  said  you  were  to 
come,  and  all  the  people  are  looking  for  you." 

Oh!  dearie  me  how  I  felt.  "  Now,"  I  thought,  "there  will  be  a 
great  crowd.  That  was  not  what  I  wanted  at  all.  I  just  wanted 
to  go  quietly  and  have  a  meeting  for  these  poor  Congo  people." 

By  and  by  another  came;  and  so  it  went.  Mrs.  Harmon 
^aid: 


Amanda  Smith.  '  449 

♦•Why,  you  never  told  me  anything  about  it." 

**No,"  I  said,  "  for  the  very  reason  I  was  afraid  there  would 
be  a  great  excitement  about  it." 

She  laughed  and  said.  "You  try  to  keep  anything  quiet  here, 
and  you  will  miss  it." 

So  I  got  ready  and  went;  and  there,  sure  enough,  under  that 
pretty  tree  stood  a  table  with  a  white  cloth  on  it,  a  hymn  book,  a 
pitcher  of  water,  and  tumbler;  chairs  all  around,  and  mats  down, 
and  there  the  people  were.  As  I  drew  near  I  smiled  to  myself, 
and  yet  was  fit  to  cry.     1  said,  "  Lord,  help  me  this  once." 

I  read  and  explained  the  Word  as  best  I  could  on  consecration 
and  faith,  pointing  out  some  of  the  sins  and  hindrances  to  the 
exercise  of  faith  for  any  blessing  that  God  was  willing  to  give. 

The  Lord  did  help  me  that  afternoon  as  1  talked.  Several 
goo4  sisters  had  come  who  had  got  the  baptism  of  the  Spirit,  and 
knew  how  to  pray;  so  I  asked  if  there  were  any  there  who  desired 
we  should  pray  for  them,  and  1  asked  them  to  stand  up,  and  several 
did  so.     Among  them  was  Brother  Sharper's  wife. 

Dear  Sister  Sharper!  I  shall  never  forget  her.  She  was  a 
woman  of  no  ordinary  intelligence;  and  she  was  desperately  in 
earnest.  I  asked  them  to  come  forward  and  kneel  around  the 
table  (for  we  had  no  altar),  and  she  came.  Oh!  how  she  prayed. 
And  when  the  Holy  Ghost  struck  her  (for  it  did)  she  whirled  like 
a  top,  round  and  round,  and  round  and  round!  We  could  not 
touch  her.  She  just  went  like  a  streak,  through  the  bush,  out 
into  the  street.  I  thought  she  would  kill  herself.  Oh!  I  was 
frightened.  As  she  rolled  over,  she  kept  saying,  "  Glory,  glory, 
glory  to  Jesus!  glory!  " 

The  sisters  followed  after  her,  and  tried  to  hold  her,  but  they 
could  not.  By  and  by  she  sprang  up  all  at  once;  and  didn't  she 
shout!  She  marched  home,  and  there  was  not  a  scratch  or  a 
bruise  on  her.  It  was  wonderful.  I  shall  never  forget  the  day 
when  Jesus  washed  her  sins  away.     Glory  to  His  name! 

These  were  some  of  the  wonderful  days  at  Cape  Palmas.  And 
still  there's  more  to  follow. 

Brother  Ware  did  not  get  back  for  six  weeks;  so  we  had  full 
swing,  and  God  was  with  us.  When  he  did  come,  how  surprised 
he  wa». 

Every  Sunday,  prior  to  his  coming,  a  number  were  taken  in. 
The  first  Sunday"after  he  came  he  took  in  nine  or  ten;  I  do.i't 


450  AUTOBIOCiKAPHY   OF    AmANDA   SmITH. 

know  what  the  number  was  exactly.  I  never  like  to  number 
Israel.  The  recovd  is  on  high.  But  I  know  one  Sunday  after  this, 
one  of  the  leaders  said  to  him,  just  before  the  meeting  closed  (as 
he  had  not  opened  the  doors  of  the  church  to  receive  any  mem- 
bers), "  Brother  Ware,  there  are  several  persons  who  would  like  to 
Join  the  church,"  and  brought  them  up;  and  he  refused  to  take 
them  in,  because  he  had  not  been  notified  of  their  desire  to  join 
two  or  three  days  before,  and  said  that  he  would  not  receive  any 
more  in  unless  their  names  were  given  to  him  two  or  three  days 
before,  and  he  could  see  them,  and  have  a  talk  with  them  himself. 
It  seemed  to  throw  a  damper  on  the  work.  Everybody  seemed 
to  understand  what  it  meant.  But  the  Lord  of  Hosts  was  with  us; 
and  the  (iod  of  Jacob  was  our  refuge;  and  we  hid,  and  went  on. 


CHAPTER    X  XXTII. 

EMIGRATION  TO  LIBERIA— SCHOOLS  OP  LIBERIA— MISSION  SCHOOLS 
— FALSE  IMPRESSIONS — IGNORANCE  AND  HELPLESSNESS  OF 
EMIGRANTS— AFRICAN    ARISTOCRACY. 

I  am  often  asked  if  1  favor  colored  people's  emigrating  to  Li 
beria,  Africa. 

My  answer  is,  "  Yes,"  and  "  No." 

Yes,  if  the  right  kind  of  emigrants  go.  For  in  this  country, 
if  the  right  kind  of  emigrants  come,  we  need  have  no  fears.  But 
it  is  the  flood  of  ignorant  Italians,  uneducated  and  untrained,  and 
poor  Polish  Jews,  and  Irish,  and  Germans,  who  have  no  inter  st 
in  America  whatever,  only  for  what  they  can  get  out  of  it,  have 
no  love  for  its  institutions,  no  love  for  its  government,  have  not 
been  taught  any  of  its  principles,  don't  know  anything  about 
them,  and  don't  care  to  — these  are  the  people  that  we  don't  want 
in  America;  women  ignorant,  men  ignorant,  and.  of  course,  herds 
of  children  equally  ignorant;  worse  than  the  heathen  in  Africa, 
and  much  harder  to  enlighten,  because  they  have  been  steeped  in 
Romanism,  and  the  African  comes  only  with  his  superstitions, 
which  he  soon  drops,  under  civilized  and  Christian  influences. 

Now,  without  there  has  been  a  vast  improvement  since  I  was 
there,  the  Liberian  government  is  very  poor,  but  makes  out  to 
manage  somehow.  And  if  educated,  industrious,  intelligent 
black  men,  with  money,  would  go  there,  for  the  love  of  the  race, 
and  with  the  love  of  God  in  their  hearts,  and  go  with  no  other 
object  than  to  sacrifice  their  lives  and  their  money  for  the  good 
of  the  republic  and  their  fellowmen  (and  it  would  take  but  a 
little  while  to  do  that;  but  this  is  the  only  way  for  black  men  to 
go  to  Africa;  and  7  believe  this  is  the  proper  way),  then  I  say,  yes, 
emigrate. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  say  "No."    For  I  don't  believe  it  is 
(451) 


452  Autobiography  of 

right  to  take  out  men  and  women  indiscriminately,  and  gen- 
erally of  the  poorest  that  are  in  the  South,  or  anywhere  else,  ignor- 
ant of  the  principles,  and  the  need  and  duties  of  the  Liberian 
government,  as  the  poor,  ignorant  Italians,  or  Polish  Jews,  or  others, 
with  no  knowledge  of  the  country  or  its  customs,  no  love  for  it  in 
any  way,  only  what  they  get  out  of  it,  have  not  been  taught,  have 
no  love  of  loyalty,  only  as  they  may  borrow  it  for  selfish  ends,  then 
I  say,  "No,  No!" 

God  bless  the  Colonization  Society.  It  was  raised  up  at  a 
time  of  imperative  need;  and  so  was  John  Knox,  of  Scotland;  and 
Wesley  of  England.  It  did  its  work.  But  from  the  standpoint  I 
look  at  it,  I  would  move  its  disbandment  forthwith,  and  let  the 
white  people  who  want  the  Negro  to  emigrate  to  Africa  so  as  to 
make  more  room  for  the  great  flood  of  foreigners  who  come  to  our 
shores,  know  that  there  is  a  place  in  the  United  States  for  the 
Negro. 

They  are  real  American  citizens,  and  at  home,  ^hey  have 
fought  and  bled  and  died,  like  men,  to  make  this  country  what  it 
is.  And  if  they  have  got  to  suffer  and  die,  and  be  lynched,  and 
tortured,  and  burned  at  the  stake,  I  say  they  are  at  home. 

Like  many  of  the  foreigners  that  come,  they  are  not  all  indus- 
trious; and  to  be  poor,  and  ignorant,  and  lazy,  is  bad  enough  at 
home.  But  to  be  seven  thousand  miles  away  in  a  heathen  country, 
is  ten  times  worse. 

At  first  sight,  it  would  seem  all  right;  but  one  cannot  know 
Africa  in  a  week,  or  a  month.  It  is  quite  easy  for  a  stranger  to 
go  there  and  make  a  call  or  two,  on  some  of  the  best  people,  have 
a  fine  dinner,  big  speeches,  and  all  that  (all  of  which  they  can 
give  you),  but,  Lord  bless  you,  that  is  not  knowing  the  people,  any 
more  than  it  would  be  knowing  the  people  in  Italy  because  you 
dined  with  the  king.  And  there  is  where  people  are  so  often  de- 
ceived about  Liberia,  and  often  the  real  state  of  things  is  misrep- 
resented.    What  a  pity!  What  a  pity! 

I  believe  if  the  real  facts  in  the  case  of  that  republic  had 
been  known  twenty  years  ago,  she  would  have  been  in  a  better 
condition,  financially  and  commercially,  and  she  would  have  had 
the  sympathy,  and  respect,  and  admiration  of  the  world.  But  the 
Liberians  have  a  false  notion  that  to  speak  of  their  failures  or  mis- 
takes in  any  way,  means  to  reflect  upon  them,  because  it  is  a  black 
republic.    But  I  never  thought  so,  and  told  them  I  didn't  believe 


Amanda  Smith.  453 

it.  But  my  people  often  called  me  "  White  folks' nigger,"  any- 
how. So  I  am  in  for  it,  and  I  don't  care.  All  I  care  to  do  is  to 
keep  in  favor  with  God  and  man  as  much  as  li<'th  in  me. 

During  my  stay  of  eight  years  in  Africa  there  was  not  a  gov- 
ernment school  building  in  the  republic,  and  never  had  been,  as 
far  as  I  could  learn;  but  their  schools  were  held  in  churches,  or 
private  houses.  1  remember  there  was  a  high  school  talked  of 
and  arranged  for  during  the  session  of  the  Legislature  in  1885  or 
1886.  A  Mr.  James  Lewis,  of  Sinoe,  was  appointed  by  the  gov- 
ernment as  teacher.  I  was  in  Greenville,  Sinoe,  when  he  returned 
home  from  the  Legislature  with  his  appointment. 

Of  course  there  was  a  great  deal  of  talk  about  this  new  depart- 
ment of  school  work.  Mr.  Lewis  was  thought  to  be  the  man  for 
the  position.  And  I  thought  from  the  talk  that  they  would  erect 
a  building  for  the  purpose.  But  no;  when  Mr.  Lewis  opened  his 
school,  with  quite  a  nice  number  of  pupils,  it  was  on  the  veranda 
of  his  own  private  dwelling;  and  his  seat  was  a  hammock! 

Many  times  I  have  passed  by,  or  from  my  window  could  see 
him,  hearing  his  pupils  recite,  while  he  would  be  lying  in  the 
hammock.  It  was  right  in  the  public  street,  so  it  was  not  a  thing 
done  in  a  corner.  I  spent  some  weeks  with  his  sister,  Mrs.  Mar- 
shall, almost  opposite  his  house;  so  know  whereof  I  affirm. 

Then  there  were  two  other  schools  called  government  schools; 
one  held  in  the  Congregational  Church,  and  another,  said  to  be  for 
natives,  held  in  another  part  of  town.  This  school  was  held  about 
three  times  in  a  week,  with  an  average  attendance  of  five  or  six 
native  boys,  who  lived  in  the  families  generally.  The  teacher  was 
Mrs.  Marshall's  sister. 

Of  course  the  government  had  an  inspector  of  schools;  but  if 
you  were  a  friend  of  the  inspector,  or  if  you  had  a  friend  who  was 
a  friend  of  the  inspector,  it  had  more  to  do  with  your  keeping  the 
school  than  any  other  qualification. 

Then  people  say,  "Well,  but  they  have  a  college."  Yes,  they 
boast  of  a  college.  I  often  told  them  that  it  did  not  come  up  to  a 
good  high  school  in  this  country,  not  in  any  sense.  I  think  there 
was  a  time  when  it  was  in  a  better  condition  than  it  was  when  I 
was  there.  Whatever  that  was,  I  don't  know.  I  simply  speak  of 
what  it  was  during  the  eight  years  of  my  stay.  To  call  it  a  col- 
lege, I  think,  is  a  misnomer;  for  it  led  the  people  to  believe  that 
we  had  graded  schools,  and  every  requisite  preparatury  to  a  col- 
lege course.     But  that  is  really  not  so. 


454  Autobiography  op 

There  was  no  standard  school  book  in  any  of  the  schools.  The 
children  used  any  kind  of  books  they  could  get— Sunday  School 
books,  story  books,  or  any  book.  Everywhere  I  went  I  inquired 
about  the  schools,  and  found  the  same  statement.  I  visited  a 
school  one  day  where  I  found  a  very  nice  lot  of  children,  .  nging 
from  six  to  fourteen  years  of  age.  Many  of  them  seemed  to  be 
very  bright.     They  came  to  recite  one  at  a  time. 

"Why  don't  you  have  them  in  classes?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,  that  is  what  I  would  like  to  do,"  the  teacher  said. 
"But  we  haven't  got  the  books.  There  are  not  four  children  in 
the  school  with  books  alike.  Their  parents  send  them  with  any 
kind  of  a  book,  and  I  am  obliged  to  use  it;  and  some  of  the  chil- 
dren come  and  have  no  book  at  all;  but  they  come." 

"How  do  you  manage?  " 

"  I  borrow  a  book  from  some  of  the  other  children,  and  hear 
the  lesson." 

"Then  they  can't  study  when  they  go  home?" 

"  No,"  she  said,  "they  just  have  to  study  in  school." 

"How  long  have  you  been  teaching  this  school?  " 

"Two  years,"  she  said. 

"Well,  why  don't  you  speak  about  it?  Isn't  this  a  govern- 
ment school?" 

"Yes  but  I  have  spoken,  and  I  have  gone  myself  to  Monrovia, 
and  done  all  I  could  about  it;  but  it  does  no  good." 

And  that  was  about  the  way  I  would  find  it  everywhere, 
unless  there  was  a  mission  school. 

As  I  was  going  to  Liberia,  in  1882,  when  we  got  to  Sierra 
Leone,  a  Liberian  young  man,  a  very  nice  lad,  I  suppose  about 
seventeen  years  of  age,  Mr,  Eddie  Lisles,  from  Bassa,  got  on  the 
steamer.  I  saw  he  was  a  very  nice,  interesting  looking  lad,  and 
one  day  as  he  was  sitting  smoking,  I  went  up  to  him  and  had  a 
talk  with  him.  I  asked  him  his  name,  and  where  he  lived,  and 
he  told  me.     He  said  he  had  been  away  at  school. 

"Away  at  school?"  I  said;  "where?" 

"At  Sierra  Leone." 

"Sierra  Leone?  Why,  they  have  a  college  at  Monrovia, 
haven't  they?" 

"Yes,"  he  said. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I'm  surprised.  I  thought  that  the  people 
would  be  sending  their  children  from  other  places  to  Monrovia  to 
the  college." 


Amanda  Smith.   ^  455 

He  smiled,   as  though  he  thought  I  was  green.     And  I  was, 
too.     He  said:  "  I  have  a  sister  that  is  going  when  I  go  home." 
*'Have  they  good  schools  in  Sierra  Leone?"  I  asked. 
•'Very  good." 

"  And  don't  the  people  in  Sierra  Leone  send  their  children  to 
the  college  at  Monrovia?" 
"No,"  he  said. 

It  was  all  a  mystery  to  me.  I  could  not  understand  it.  I  felt 
inclined  to  think  he  was  not  straight.  But  still  I  said  nothing 
more.  Of  course  1  understood  it  after  eight  years'  experience  and 
observation. 

The  mission  schools  have  done  the  most  good,  I  think.  The 
Presbyterian  Mission,  at  Clay- Ashland,  at  one  time  had  a  flour- 
ishing school.  They  had  a  fine,  large,  brick  house,  and  outbuild- 
ings. When  I  first  went  to  Africa,  these  buildings  were  all  in 
good  condition,  but  were  unoccupied.  The  school  was  held  in  the 
hall,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  Mr.  Albert  King  was  the 
teacher,  and  as  his  home  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  I  pre- 
sume that  is  why  the  school  was  changed  over  there. 

However,  the  former  house  and  buildings  were  all  standing 
when  I  first  went  there.  I  have  often  passed  it  as  I  have  gone  up 
the  river.  What  a  pretty  situation  it  was,  and  how  nice  every- 
thing seemed  to  be  around  it.  But,  like  the  Methodist  Seminary 
at  Monrovia,  and  the  Ann  Wilkins  school  at  Millsburg,  and  the 
school  up  at  White  Plains,  and  the  seminary  at  Cape  Palmas,  was 
once  flourishing,  but  had  gone  down.  And  that  is  one  of  the  good 
things  that  Bishop  Taylor  has  done  for  the  Liberians  — restoring 
and  manning  their  schools,  and  establishing  schools  among  the 
natives,  and  supplying  them  with  teachers,  and  so  helping  the 
government  to  fulfill  their  promise  to  them,  which  hitherto  they 
had  not  been  able  to  do. 

I  was  told  that  that  was  one  of  the  causes  of  the  Gredebo  war; 
that  the  government  had  promised  to  establish  schools  among  the 
natives,  and  send  them  teachers,  and  they  had  waited,  and  they 
had  not  done  it. 

I  was  glad  when  the  Bishop  had  got  these  schools  at  Monrovia 
and  Cape  Palmas  started  again.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  un- 
pleasant feeling  among  the  people  at  one  time,  because  the  Bishop 
began  his  work  among  the  natives.  They  said  that  the  Episcopal 
Mission  had  taught  the  Gredebos,  and  by  educating  them,  they 


456  AUTOBIOGKAPHY    OF 

had  turned  to  be  the  enemies  of  the  Liberians.  They  had  never 
had  any  trouble,  till  after  the  Cavalla  school.  I  forget  the  name  of 
the  white  missionary  that  was  in  the  Episcopal  school  at  Cavalla. 

The  Gredebo  people  are  very  bright,  clever  people,  and  the 
missionary  had  a  little  company  of  the  boys,  students,  organized, 
and  was  teaching  them  and  training  them  in  military  tactics;  and 
it  was  said  that  this  military  teaching  and  training  was  the  cause 
of  all  their  trouble  with  the  natives  afterwards. 

Cavalla  was  the  great  school  centre  of  the  Episcopal  work. 
Many  of  the  Liberians,  the  older  men,  were  educated  at  Cavalla; 
and  it  was  a  flourishing  school.  But,  strange  to  say,  whether  the 
statement  in  regard  to  the  natives  giving  them  trouble  because 
they  were  trained  in  military  tactics  at  this  school,  is  true  or  not, 
the  tact  is  that  all  the  war  troubles  that  have  threatened,  and  are 
threatening  them,  seem  to  be  engendered  at  Cavalla;  so  much  so, 
that  just  before  1  left  Cape  Palmas,  that  great  mission  station  and 
school  was  broken  up,  and  what  pupils  remained  all  came  to  Cape 
Palmas,  and  are  there  yet,  I  suppose.  And  the  most  of  the  trouble 
that  Bishop  Taylor's  missionaries  had,  after  they  got  to  Cavalla, 
on  their  way  up  to  their  stations,  came  from  the  Episcopal  Mis- 
sion. It  was  a  perfect  mystery.  We  did  not  understand  it.  But 
that  was  a  fact. 

It  was  one  of  these  mission  stations  that  cost  Bishop  Taylor 
some  three  or  four  hundred  dollars  when  they  were  trying  to  get 
up  the  river,  after  the  Bishop  had  been  up  the  river  and  made 
all  his  agreements  with  the  kings  and  chiefs. 

I  was  with  him,  sat  in  every  council,  and  heard  all  the  arrange- 
ments; Brother  Pratt,  his  agent,  was  with  him,  also;  and  there 
was  not  a  dissenting  voice  among  the  natives. 

He  didn't  go  to  any  town  where  the  Episcopal  missionaries 
had  been;  went  to  places  altogether  where  there  had  been  no  mis- 
sionaries at  all,  and  was  received  kindly  in  all  these  places,  and 
they  begged  him  to  come  and  send  them  a  missionary  to  teach 
their  people.  They  agreed  to  all  the  Bishop's  propositions  with- 
out a  word;  and  the  Bishop  agreed  to  theirs.  They  agreed  to  give 
so  many  acres  of  land  for  a  mission,  cut  and  burn  so  much  bush 
for  a  farm,  and  then  plant  it,  and  cut  the  timber  and  build  a 
kitchen  for  the  missionary.    This  was  their  part  of  the  agreement. 

Bishop  Taylor's  part  was  to  send  the  missionary  free  of  charge 
to  them  and  give  him  all  his  outfit  for  six  months. 


Amanda  Smith.  45'/ 

This  was  agreed  to,  without  a  word  of  dissent  from  anyone. 
The  old  women  used  to  come  and  get  down  at  Bishop  Taylor's  feet, 
and  say: 

"  Oh!  Daddy,  you  be  fine.     You  be  fine  too  much." 

Mr.  Pratt  had  told  them  a  year  before  the  Bishop  came,  that 
he  was  coming;  and  so  they  watched  with  eager  hope;  and  when 
they  saw  the  Bishop  and  Mr.  Pratt,  the  old  women  would  get 
down  and  take  hold  of  the  Bishop's  feet,  and  then  they  would  turn 
to  Pratt,  and  say; 

'•  Oh!  Daddy,  you  mouth  no  lie  this  time.  You  mouth  no  lie. 
You  got  true  mouth." 

One  town  we  went  to,  we  had  not  been  there  two  hours  before 
they  brought  us  two  goats,  as  a  present.  Oh,  how  glad  they  were. 
My  heart  ached  when  I  saw  their  kindness,  and  I  wept.  Poor 
things! 

We  came  down  the  river.  There  was  not  a  word.  When 
Bishop  Taylor's  missionaries  arrived  at  Cape  Palmas,  Mr.  Pratt 
was  a  week  in  getting  their  things  taken  down  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Cavalla  river  from  Cape  Palmas;  then  the  natives  from  their  sta- 
tions were  to  come  down  in  their  canoes,  and  take  the  things  up 
to  the  stations. 

After  he  got  the  things  all  down,  then  he  took  the  mission- 
aries themselves.  When  they  got  down  to  Cavalla,  as  they  were 
going  up  the  river,  nine  in  number,  three  men  with  their  families, 
they  were  stopped  by  the  natives,  at  one  of  the  Episcopal  Mission 
Stat-'  ms,  and  not  allowed  to  proceed  up  the  river.  They  had  told 
the  natives  that  it  meant  war;  that  these  white  missionaries  were 
only  coming  to  take  the  country  away  from  them.  That  was  the 
pretext. 

In  their  contention  and  spirit  they  threw  over  a  large  box  of 
tools  in  the  river,  that  I  think  they  never  got;  and  if  it  had  not 
been  that  the  women  were  with  them,  they  would  have  had  a 
more  serious  time  than  they  had.  They  were  terribly  hostile. 
They  drove  the  natives  back  that  had  come  down. 

Strange  to  say,  these  people  that  live  on  the  river,  many  of 
them,  don't  want  the  natives  in  the  interior  to  be  enlighten^'d.  So 
Bishop  Taylor's  parties  were  turned  back,  and  did  not  get  back 
for  a  week.  Oh!  it  was  terrible.  Poor  things,  how  much  they 
sufi'ered.  Finally  they  all  came  back  to  Cape  Palmas,  and  it  was 
weeks  before  they  got  to  their  stations. 


458  Autobiography  op 

Mr.  Pratt  had  to  send  them  overland,  and  had  tu  pay  four 
dollars  a  load  for  carriers;  and  during  that  time,  many  of  them 
had  the  fever,  and  some  of  them  died. 

The  day  that  they  came  back  across  the  bar,  the  bar  was 
rough,  and  it  rained,  and  most  of  them  got  soaking  wet,  which 
they  should  not  have  done,  and  that  was  the  cause  of  so  much  of 
their  fever  and  sickness  so  early.  Two  families  that  stopped  for  a 
week  with  Mr.  Gibson,  a  member  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  Mr. 
Pratt  had  to  pay  ninety-nine  dollars  for;  one  man  had  a  wife  and 
two  children,  and  the  other  a  wife  and  three  children,  all  small 
children. 

At  the  place  where  Miss  McNeil  and  Miss  Whitfield,  and  Miss 
Bowers  stayed  for  a  week,  they  were  more  reasonable;  they  only 
charged  forty  dollars.  And  where  Miss  Wallace  and  Miss  Meeker 
stayed  for  a  week,  they  charged,  I  think  it  was  thirty-five  dollars. 

Oh!  I  never  went  through  such  a  siege  in  all  my  life.  Bishop 
Taylor  was  not  there;  but  I  was  there  through  it  all,  and  haven't 
borrowed  a  word.  This  was  pioneer  work.  It  is  not  so,  now,  I 
think,  for  Miss  McNeil  has  nice  headquarters  atCape  Palmas,  and 
there  are  several  of  the  missionaries  there,  so  that  those  who  go 
now  have  a  home  till  they  can  go  up  the  river.  It  was  very  differ- 
ent at  that  time;  and  there's  more  to  follow. 

So  one  can  see  why  the  Liberians  should  feel  that  establishing 
schools  among  the  natives  by  Bishop  Taylor,  was  going  to  bring 
them  the  same  trouble.  But  now  since  he  has  got  the  schools 
opened,  and  teachers  for  the  Liberians,  as  well  as  natives,  they 
will  think  diff'erently,  and,  I  trust,  feel  differently. 

During  the  eight  years  I  spent  in  Liberia,  there  were  four  em- 
igrations to  the  republic.  Three  went  to  Brewerville,  and  the 
fourth  to  Cape  Calmas.  I  went  to  the  receptacle  where  they  were 
quartered  when  they  first  landed,  and  saw  them  all,  and  talked 
with  them;  and  then  visited  them  at  their  stations  after  they  were 
settled. 

Some  had  gone  to  Cape  Mount,  and  after  they  had  been  there 
a  year,  I  visited  several  of  the  families  there.  I  visited  others  at 
Brewerville,  and  at  Mount  Tubman,  Cape  Palmas,  and  at  Phila- 
delphia, about  three  miles  from  Mount  Tubman.  I  never  saw 
greater  suffering  and  need  in  my  life  than  there  was  among  these 
poor  new-comers.  The  only  comfortable  thing  (and  that  was  un- 
comfortable) was  the  warm  climate;  they  didn't  need  much  fire, 


Amanda  Smith.  459 

or  warm   clotliin^^;  but  for  every  other  necessary  in  iife  that  yo>i 
could  mention,  they  were  seriously  in  need. 

At  Philadelphia  was  a  very  pretty  settlement,  and  it  was 
thickly  and  well  settled  at  one  time; -good  land  all  round  about, 
some  very  good  houses,  and  things  were  going  on  pretty  well.  Mr. 
Allen  Yancy,  and  his  brother,  who  was  killed  in  the  Cape  Palmas 
war,  were  the  leading  men  who  founded  that  settlement;  and  at 
one  time  it  flourished;  but  was  broken  up  at  the  time  of  the 
Gredebo  war,  and  has  never  since  been  what  it  was  before. 

When  people  in  Africa  are  routed  by  war,  they  do  not  settle 
down  quickly  to  their  old  homesteads.  Poor  things!  War  is  not 
elevating  in  any  country;  its  effect,  morally  and  socially,  aPxd  relig 
iously,  is  not  helpful.  I  think,  with  the  exception  of  about  four 
out  of  forty  odd,  there  could  not  have  been  found  a  more  helpless 
and  ignorant  set  of  men,  women  and  children,  than  these  emi- 
grants that  came  while  I  was  there.  There  were  several  young 
men  and  boys,  and  girls,  ranging  in  age,  I  suppose,  from  ten  to 
eighteen  years. 

I  was  down  with  fever  when  th^'  arrived,  so  didn't  go  to  see 
them  for  three  days.  It  was  quite  a  little  distance  from  where  I 
was,  to  the  receptacle  where  they  were  quartered  until  they  would 
get  their  land  given  them.  I  had  heard  a  great  deal  from  one  and 
another,  for  the  people  called  to  see  them,  of  course,  and  talked 
with  them,  so  as  to  cheer  them,  and  make  them  feel  at  home  as 
much  as  possible;  and  when  I  went,  I  took  a  lot  of  papers,  and 
tracts,  and  cards,  for  the  children;  and,  to  my  surprise,  as  I 
went  from  room  to  room,  and  in  the  hall,  as  I  met  young  people, 
and  asked  them  to  have  a  tract  or  paper,  they  would  say,  "I  can't 
read;"  so  also,  the  fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  sisters. 

There  were  two  old  men  among  them  that  were  preachers.  I 
went  into  one  room,  and  the  old  man  was  sitting  on  a  stool,  with 
the  Bible  on  an  old  trunk  reading  aloud,  evidently  for  me  to  hear; 
so  I  went  up  and  stood  by  him  and  listened. 

"Well,  Pa,"  I  said,  in  a  familiar  way,  "you  seem  to  be  en- 
joying yourself  reading  the  good  book." 

He  looked  up,  kind  of  dignified,  as  though  I  had  broken  the 
charm  that  was  upon  him;  then  went  on  reading  again. 

"Sit  down,"  a  woman  said. 

"I  have  called  to  see  you,"  I  said,  "you  have  had  many  calls, 
I  suppose,  but  I  have  not  been  here  before." 


460  Autobiography  of 

The  old  man  read  on.  But  of  all  the  murdering  of  the  king's 
English  you  ever  heard,  that  old  man  was  guilty  of  it.  *'  Dat's  my 
husband.  He's  a  preacher,"  said  the  old  lady,  with  a  smile  of 
comfort.  "I  can't  read  myself,  but  I  likes  to  hear  him  when  he 
reads." 

Then  I  said  to  the  old  man,  "Pa,  how  long  have  3^ou  been 
preaching?" 

"  I  has  been  preaching  de  Gospel  near  'bout  forty  years,"  said 
he,  looking  up. 

"Yes,"  Isaid,  "so  long?  Well,  T  just  came  in  to  see  you  a 
little  while.  I  would  like  to  sing  a  little  song  for  you,  and  pray; 
then  I  must  go." 

So  I  began  to  sing,  and  a  number  of  others  came  in;  and  I 
prayed,  and  went  on  to  the  next  point. 

After  I  had  spent  about  two  hours  this  way,  I  went  home,  cry- 
ing all  the  way;  knowing  the  need,  as  I  did,  both  of  the  Liberians 
and  the  natives,  I  knew  that  this  lot  of  people  could  not  help  any 
of  them,  but  would  certainly  need  help  themselves;  for  I  saw  they 
knew  but  little  about  how  to,'  manage  at  home;  and  now  what 
would  they  do  in  this  strange  country  among  strangers 

Of  course,  they  would  meet  kindness;  that  goes  so  far;  but 
that  would  not  feed  them,  or  clothe  them;  and  those  that  were 
able  to  work,  and  willing,  could  not  get  the  work  to  do,  perhaps, 
the  kind  that  they  would  do  in  this  country;  for  men  and  women 
in  this  country  can  turn  their  hand  to  most  anything,  and  there  is 
almost  everything  to  turn  their  hand  to;  but  there,  there  is  no 
driving,  and  trucking,  and  farming,  like  there  is  here;  and  mak- 
ing roads  and  building  bridges,  and  harvesting,  and  hod  carrying, 
nothing  like  there  is  in  this  country,  that  they  had  been  used  to; 
and  the  most  of  the  work  that  is  done  there,  is  done  by  the  natives, 
and  native  wages  are  paid,  in  trade  —  cloth,  tobacco,  fish,  or  rice. 
And  there  is  not  a  black  man  at  Cape  Palmas,  I  mean  a  Liberian 
man,  (without  it  is  Bishop  Ferguson,  he  might),  who  could  have 
hired  six  of  these  new  emigrants,  and  paid  them  fifty  cents  a  day 
in  good  money,  not  Liberian  currency,  but  good,  American  money, 
and  fed  them  three  meals  a  day  for  six  months. 

This  may  seem  strange;  but  I  don't  fear  the  slightest  contra- 
diction from  any  real  upright,  honest,  man  or  woman. 

Now  here  were  these  poor  men  with  their  families.  The  Col- 
onization Society  gives  them  what  they  call  "rations,"  for  six 


?3 


Amanda  Smith.  461 

months.  By  that  time  they  are  supposed  to  have  got  started,  and 
have  their  houses  built,  or  shanties,  for  this  is  about  all  that 
would  be  built,  and  no  matter  for  that,  if  they  were  only  good 
shanties;  but  a  good,  native  house  is  far  more  desirable. 

Six  months  goes  round  very  fast  in  Liberia,  and  in  the  hud- 
dled together  manner  in  which  they  go  on  the  vessel  and  the 
huddled  together  manner  in  which  they  are  quartered  in  the  recep- 
tacle where  they  are  waiting  to  have  their  land  assigned  to  them, 
many  of  them  go  down  with  fever.  Besides,  not  being  very  valiant 
for  bathing  and  making  themselves  clean,  as  the  natives  are.  and, 
all  considered,  at  the  end  of  six  months  they  are  worse  off  than  ever. 
They  have  traded  off  their  meat,  or  flour,  or  cloth,  that  they  have 
brought,  some  for  medicine,  some  for  a  fowl,  or  something  to  help 
them  while  they  are  sick;  and  some  of  the  people  with  whom  they 
dwell  have  learned  the  art  of  living  on  these  new-comers,  and 
greenhorns.  But  the  government  is  not  to  blame  for  that,  any 
more  than  this  United  States  is  to  blame  for  a  man's  being  what  is 
called  a  "sharper." 

Then  there  are  large  boys  and  girls  who  cannot  read  or  spell: 
neither  can  their  parents;  so  these  boys  and  girls  go  to  school, 
and  the  children  laugh  at  them,  being  almost  3'oung  men  and 
women,  and  saying,  a,  b,  c;  then  they  are  ashamed  to  go,  and  their 
parents  do  not  insist  on  it.     They  simply  say: 

"Well,  I  got  on  without  any  I'arnin',  and  if  I  have  got  on 
without  any  I'arnin',  you  children  can  get  on  the  same." 

In  the  course  of  a  year  or  two,  these  fourteen  and  fifteen-year- 
old  boys  are  pretty  well  on  to  men:  and  in  a  little  while  they  are 
into  politics.     They  cannot  read  or  write. 

Then  among  the  young  girls;  some  of  them  are  very  nice  look- 
ing, and  they  will  be  married,  for  they  are  bound  to  marry  in  any 
event.  Now,  if  the  Colonization  Society  would  send  a  good  teacher 
with  them,  with  books,  so  they  might  have  school  on  the  voyage, 
and  then  teach  them  for  six  months  or  a  year  after  they  get  there, 
they  would  be  better  prepared  to  go  into  the  schools.  For,  poor  as 
they  are  there,  they  are  high-toned  for  people  who  have  never  been 
to  school. 

In  that  way  they  would  help;  for  a  government  that  does  not 
seek  in  every  way  to  educate  and  instruct  and  enlighten  its  people, 
has  a  poor  hope  of  long  existence.  It  cannot  go  on  perpetuating 
Ignorance,  and  succeed. 


462  Autobiography  of 

I  have  heard  of  the  Colonization  Society's  sometimes  sending 
books  with  the  emigrants;  but,  as  a  general  thing,  they  are  of  the 
higher  grade,  and  the  agents  hold  them  at  such  a  high  figure  that 
only  a  few  are  able  to  get  them. 

When  I  saw  this  need  I  would  have  gladly  gone  every  day  my- 
self, or  have  hired  some  one,  to  teach  these  children  during  the 
six  months  they  were  at  the  receptacle.  But  then  there  was  not 
a  spelling  book  or  a  primer  to  be  had  anywhere.  There  are  no 
book  stores,  or  stationery  shops,  where  anything  of  that  kind  can 
be  obtained.  And  for  the  sick,  no  dispensaries,  no  doctors,  no 
hospitals,  and  not  even  a  county  poorhouse,  as  there  is  in  this 
country. 

I  have  gone  to  see  many  of  them  when  they  were  sick,  and 
suffering  from  great  sores  caused  by  a  little  insect  called  the  chigoe 
flea,  and  they  have  said  if  they  had  some  salve  that  they  used  at 
home,  and  knew  about,  it  would  help  them.  But  it  was  not  to 
be  had  there.  Then  there  were  herbs  they  knew  at  home,  that 
were  good  for  fevers;  but  they  did  not  know  the  herbs  in  Africa, 
and  if  they  got  them  they  must  pay  for  them. 

Now,  at  home,  in  their  own  land,  if  they  were  ever  so  poor, 
they  could  help  themselves  in  these  little  things;  but  in  Africa 
they  were  really  helpless.  I  wept  for  them,  because  I  knew  it, 
and  could  not  help  them. 

Last  March,  when  I  met  an  emigration  in  New  York  of  some 
forty  odd,  who  had  sacrificed  their  little  farms,  and  what  little 
they  did  have  together,  and  were  going  to  Africa  to  get  rich 
forthwith,  I  tried  to  tell  them  what  to  take  with  them.  I  told 
them  (for  they  had  a  nice  company  of  boys  and  girls  with  them): 
"  See  to  it  that  you  send  your  children  to  school,  such  as  there  are 
there.  If  you  haven't  got  school  books,  be  sure  you  take  a  good 
supply.  Make  your  children  go  to  school.  If  they  won't  go,  flog 
them.  If  you  do  not  take  books  from  here,  you  will  not  be  able  to 
get  them  in  Liberia." 

I  told  them  all  this  and  tried  to  help  them  all  I  could.  The 
white  people  were  very  kind  to  them. 

We  did  all  we  could  in  the  church  to  take  care  of  them 
the  two  weeks  before  they  got  off.  But  they  mistook  my  mean- 
ing, poor  things,  and  when  they  got  to  Liberia,  they  told  them 
I  had  run  down  the  country,  and  said  there  was  nobod.y  in 
Liberia  fit  for  them  to  associate  with,  and  made  a  terrible  time; 


Amanda  {Smith.  463 

when  what  I  had  said  to  them  was  just  the  opposite;  it  was  for 
them  to  get  into  a  position  to  be  what  they  expected  to  be  as 
soon  as  they  got  there. 

But  spending  eight  years  in  Africa  among  the  people,  and 
being  knowi  as  I  was  known,  and  knowing  them  as  I  did  know 
them,  some  of  them  were  prepared  to  judge  about  what  I  did  say. 

Only  a  little  while  ago,  I  heard  that  some  of  these  very  ones, 
all  that  could  get  back,  had  come  back. 

If  there  was  a  hospital  where  they  could  be  cared  for,  if  for 
only  a  short  time,  it  would  not  be  so  bad.  But  there  is  no  such 
thing  anywhere  in  the  republic  of  Liberia,  or  was  not  while  I  was 
there,  or  ever  had  been.  There  was  one  talked  of  at  Monrovia 
for  five  years;  and  they  went  so  far  as  getting  a  lot,  and  laying  the 
foundation;  some  of  the  timbers  had  been  gathered,  and  had  lain 
on  the  ground  during  the  rainy  season,  which  damaged  them 
greatly;  so  that  if  it  was  ever  built,  all  the  work  that  was  done 
five  years  ago,  would  have  to  be  gone  over  again.  How  have  they 
got  on  without  these  essentials  all  these  years?  Echo  answers, 
*'How?" 

I  do  not  know  if  the  Colonization  Society  thinks  so  or  not; 
but  most  of  the  white  people  think,  and  some  colored  peopl\ 
too,  I  am  afraid,  especially  those  who  go  as  emigrants,  that  all  th^ 
Americo-Liberians  are  on  perfect  equality  with  each  other  in  all 
thoir  social  relations;  and  that,  because  they  are  a  colored  repub- 
lic, and  an  independent  colored  government,  that  they  are  all  as 
one.  But  they  never  made  a  greater  mistake;  for  in  that  republic 
there  is  grade  and  caste  among  them  almort  equal  to  that  that  is 
found  among  the  upper-ten  colored  folks  in  America.  So  that  the 
ignorant  emigrant  does  not  strike  the  highest  and  best  grade  of 
society  when  he  first  gets  there. 

That  class  stands  off,  and  waits  to  set'  what  he  is;  and  the  in- 
telligent and  better  class  of  natives,  as  well.  So  they  do  not  find 
companionship  readily,  or  any  sooner  than  the  Italian,  Jew,  Ger- 
man, or  Irish  find  companionship  or  society  with  the  native-born 
American,  and  it  is  all  nonsense  for  white  people,  or  black  people, 
to  think  any  such  thing. 

I  never  knew  what  real,  black  aristocracy  was  until  I  was  in 
T>agos  and  Sierra  Leone.  In  Lagos  I  have  seen  as  fine  a  turnout  as 
I  have  seen  on  Fifth  AvtMuie,  New  York;  coachman  and  footman 
dressed  in  English  costume;  black  ladies  and  gentlemen  riding 


464  Autobiography  op 

on  horseback,  and  driving  in  buggies.  The^'r  houses  are  furnished 
in  tiptop  English  style. 

There  were  very  many  black  merchants  in  Lagos  and  Sierra 
Leone;  their  sons  and  daughters,  many  of  them,  are  educated  in 
England,  Germany  and  France. 

I  have  heard  it  said  that  in  Sierra  Leone  some  of  the  minis- 
ters are  better  Greek  and  jHebrew  scholars  than  some  of  their 
bishops  that  were  over  them. 

There  is  one  thing  that  the  Methodist  Church  in  America  is 
ahead  on,  and  that  is,  there  is  more  of  a  spirit  of  real  consecration 
for  missionary  work  among  the  Christian  women  in  America  than 
I  found  in  England.  In  Lagos,  in  different  places  where  the  Wes- 
leyans  have  large,  fine  mission  houses,  beautiful  grounds,  fine 
churches,  boys'  high  school,  girls'  high  school,  they  have  the  min- 
isters, but  not  their  wives. 

They  say  they  cannot  live  there;  so  while  the  ministers  are  in 
Africa — the  part  where  I  was — their  wives  are  in  England.  But 
the  Episcopals  have  high  schools  for  boys  and  for  girls,  and  a 
white  lady  principal  and  teachers  for  the  girls'  school,  as  well  as 
men  for  the  boys'  school.  Conservatism  and  denominational  dis- 
tinctions are  very  prominent.  But  they  were  all  kind  to  me  at 
Lagos,  God  bless  them. 

Before  I  close  this  chapter  I  will  give  a  very  brief  account  of  a 
black  heroine,  who  deserves  this  notice  for  the  work  she  has  done, 
and  is  doing  in  Africa. 

Miss  Susan  Collins,  the  only  colored  student  who  has  ever 
entered  the  Chicago  Training  School,  and  one  of  the  noblest  ladies 
that  has  left  that  institution  for  the  foreign  field,  went  to  Africa 
in  1887,  where  she  is  at  present  laboring  in  Bishop  Taylor's  work, 
in  Angola. 

She  has  charge  of  a  little  sub-station,  supported  by  Pungo 
Andongo  station,  and  has  started  an  infant  training  school. 

No  more  faithful  and  self-denying  missionary  can  be  found 
anywhere  than  dear  Susan  Collins.  I  want  to  give  place  to  this 
very  interesting  item  for  my  own  people,  and  also  that  others  may 
see  that  there  are  colored  women  who  can  cope  with  any  of  the 
opposite  race  for  real  stick-to-itiveness  and  self-sacrifice  and  en- 
durance. She  has  never  left  her  post  since  she  went  to  Africa,  and 
has  stood  the  climate  well.  God  has  wonderfully  preserved  her  in 
health  and  strength,  and  has  made  a  great  woman  of  her. 


Amanda  Smith.  4G5 

1  met  her  first  with  the  party  that  went  down  the  Congo.  I 
went  with  them  as  far  as  Old  Calabar;  and  of  all  the  party,  of 
sixteen  or  more,  I  perceived  in  Susie  Collins,  timber  that  meant 
something.  She  was  a  woman  who  had  been  well  raised  and  well 
trained;  she  had  good,  broad,  common  sense,  and  knew  how  to  dc 
a  little  of  about  everything;  she  was  patient,  and  of  a  happy,  genial 
disposition:  of  high  moral  character  and  sturdy  piety. 

These  are  the  qudifications  that  will  generally  stand  the  heavy 
pull  in  Africa.  May  God  bless  her,  and  contiaue  to  make  her  a 
blessing. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

LETTERS  AND  TESTIMONIALS  —  BISHOP  TAYLOR —CHURCH  AT  MON- 
ROVIA —  UPPER  CALDWELL  —  SIERRA  LEONE  —  GREENVILLE 
—  CAPE  PALMAS  —  BAND  OF  HOPE  TEMPERANCE  SOCIETY  AT 
MONROVIA — LETTERS  —  MRS.  PAYNE — MRS.  DENMAN  —  MRS. 
INSKIP  —  REV.  EDGAR  M.  LEVY  —  ANNIE  WITTENMYER — DR. 
DORCHESTER  —  MARGARET  BOTTOME  —  MISS  WILLARD  —  LADY 
HENRY   SOMERSET. 

Before  I  dismiss  the  subject  of  Africa,  where  I  spent  eight 
years  of  labor  in  the  service  of  the  Master,  I  wish  to  present  a  few 
miscellaneous  papers  —  testimonials,  letters,  etc. — as  specimens  of 
the  many  that  I  have  received  from  those  who  have  known  me, 
and  my  work,  there  and  elsewhere. 

It  is  not  from  motives  of  vanity  that  I  do  this,  but  because  I  am 
sure  that  my  readers  will  be  interested  in  the  testimony  of  some 
whose  names,  for  the  most  part,  are  familiar  to  the  entire  Christian 
world;  and  of  others  who,  though  not  so  well  known,  were  on  the 
ground  and  personally  acquainted  with  my  work  in  Africa. 

I  have  many  letters  from  Bishop  William  Taylor,  of  whom  I 
have  had  something  to  say  in  the  preceding  chapters,  but  I  with- 
hold all  but  the  following,  which  may  serve  as  a  sort  of  general 
introduction,  although  it  was  written  simply  as  a  letter  of  com- 
mendation to  Ex-President  Payne,  of  Liberia: 

James  8.  Payne,  Ex- President  of  Liberia. 

My  Dear  Brother: — This  will  introduce  to  3^our  acquaint- 
ance our  beloved  sister,  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith.  Asaou  may  know. 
Sister  Amanda  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  evangelists  of  these 
eventful  days  in  which  we  live.  She  is  a  member  of  our  church, 
and  well  accredited,  and  everywhere  owned  of  God  in  America, 
England  and  India,  as  a  marvelous,  soul-saving  worker  for  the 
Lord  Jesus. 

(466) 


Amanda  Smith.  467 

I  heard  you  pleading  for  Liberia  at  our  recent  general  Confer- 
ence. Your  prayer  will  be  answered  in  a  great  revival  of  God's 
work  in  Liberia,  through  the  agency  of  Sister  Amanda,  with  thf 
working  concurrence  of  your  churches. 

I  am  sure  you  will  do  all  3'ou  can  to  open  her  way.  God  bless 
you  all.     Amen. 

Your  brother  in  Jesus, 

William  Taylor. 

Monrovia,  July  10,  1889. 
Mrs.  Amanda  Smith,  Evangelist. 

Dear  Sister: — Now,  upon  the  eve  of  your  departure  from 
us,  after  a  sojourn  of  eight  years,  we  feel  it  highly  becoming  us 
(and  it  affords  us  great  pleasure  to  do  so),  to  accord  to  you  this 
tribute  of  respect  and  appreciation,  as  a  testimonial  of  your  untir- 
ing labors  among  us  as  a  Christian  evangelist;  of  the  purity  of 
your  doctrines,  the  earnestness  of  their  enforcement,  of  the  clear- 
ness of  their  illustration,  and  of  the  wonderful  and  happy  results 
which  have  followed.  These  all  you  leave  behind  you  as  enduring 
monuments  of  your  zeal  for  the  Master,  and  of  your  unabated  love 
for  humankind;  and  we  do  accept  it,  that  your  mission  to  Africa 
has  been  from  God. 

Your  life  among  us  during  these  years  of  your  sojourn,  has 
been  an  even  one,  and  one  of  untarnished  moral  and  Christian 
rectitude  and  earnestness,  nor  needs  any  further  defense,  other 
than  what  it  has  borne  along  with  itself,  for  it  speaks  for  itself. 

And  this  is  the  testimony  of  all  honest  hearts  throughout  I<i- 
beria.  The  children  of  Belial  here,  may  rise  up  to  asperse  your 
fame,  and  to  sully  the  lustre  of  your  name,  which  they  so  much 
covet,  but  this  were  a  vain  attempt.  And  we  accept  it  as  a  com- 
plete refutation  of  the  theory  emphasized  by  some,  in  their  ignor- 
ance of  the  real  character  of  the  Negro  at  home,  that  white  mission- 
aries are  preferred  by  them.  The  responsibility  of  such  a  theory 
rests  solely  on  those  who  originate  and  sustain  it. 

.  Your  extensive  travels  throughout  the  length  and  breadth 
of  our  land,  your  free  and  liberal  intercourse  and  labors  among  all 
classes,  civilized  and  heathen,  Christian  and  Pagan,  and  the  uni- 
versal hospitalities  extended  to  you,  show  but  too  plainly,  when 
compared  with  the  welcome  and  entertainment  given  our  white 
brother,  that  the  theory  above  mentioned  is  not  so  tenable  as  they 
have  vainly  and  ignorantly  supposed.     With  the  Negro  at  home 


468  Autobiography  of 

in  his  native  wilds,  when  untrammelled  and  unsophisticated  by 
unfavorable  contact  with  the  dominant  race, 

"A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that." 

The  higher  plane  of  Christian  experience,  as  preached  by 
you,  in  its  distinctiveness  and  definiteness,  is  a  doctrine  purely 
Scriptural;  a  doctrine  recognized  and  enjo3'ed  under  all  ages  of 
the  church.  It  first  blazed  forth  from  the  altar  upon  which 
"  Abel  by  faith  offered  a  more  acceptable  sacrifice  than  Cain."  In 
equal  lustre  it  shone  in  Enoch,  who,  "By  faith  was  translated 
that  he  should  not  see  death."  And  then,  in  righteous  Noah,  who, 
**  By  faith  being  warned  of  things  to  come,  not  seen  as  yet,  moved 
with  fear,  prepared  the  ark  to  the  saving  of  his  house."  And  all 
along  the  line,  through  the  patriarchal.  Mosaic,  and  prophetic 
ages,  it  blazed  from  the  altar  in  an  unbroken  series.  And  then, 
under  the  fuller  illumings  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  since  the  advent  of 
the  blessed  Savior,  it  was  the  theme  of  the  Apostolic  and  primi- 
tive Christians.  The  middle  ages,  though  an  age  of  terror  and  of 
gross  darkness,  still  preserved  it  in  good  tact,  and  transmitted  it 
to  the  present  age,  baptized  in  fire  and  blood. 

And  we  rejoice  that  it  is  our  privilege  to  say  that,  though  not 
so  much  in  its  definiteness  and  distinctiveness  as  preached  by 
Christian  evangelists  in  other  lands,  and  by  you  in  this  land,  in 
these  latter  years;  yet,  it  was  the  doctrine  preached,  and  lived,  by 
many  of  the  first  founders  of  the  church  in  this  country,  long 
anterior  to  this  day.  And  while  the  zeal  of  the  church  in  Liberia 
in  its  more  universal  proclamation  and  enforcement  had  abated, 
yet  it  was  always  hailed  by  many,  as  the  central  idea  of  Christian- 
ity and  of  Methodism.  And  your  happy  arrival  to  these  shores 
served  only  to  stir  up  the  dying  embers  of  a  fire  that  had  long 
since  been  kindled  by  the  earlier  Christians.  We  hail  your  arrival 
among  us,  therefore,  as  opportune  and  gracious,  because,  God 
appointed. 

Return,  Sister  Evangelist,  to  your  home,  and  friends,  and 
loved  ones,  from  whom  you  have  long  been  separated.  You  need 
rest,  for  your  toil  has  been  long  and  unremitting.  Rest  in  the 
assurance  that  you  have  done  some  good  —  how  much  none  can 
tell;  eternity  alone  will  reveal.  Rest  in  the  assurance  that  many 
bear  grateful  and  prayerful  remembrance  of  you,  and  shall  ever. 
Rest  in  the  assurance  that  your  motives  will  sufficiently  apologize 


Amanda  Smith.  4C9 

for,  and  excuse,  any  blunders  you  may   have  committed,  in  your 
zeal  and  push  for  the  Master. 

And  now  may  the  God  of  all  grace  grant  you  many  years  added 
to  your  life,  and  still  greater  peace.  And  when  your  sun  goes 
down  in  the  west,  may  it  be  without  a  cloud.     Amen. 

[Signed  by  ,the  Pastor,  Assiatant  Pastor  and  the  Stewards  and 
Leaders  of  the  M.  E.  Church  in  Monrovia.] 

Upper  Caldwell,  Liberia,  July  16,  1889. 

Dear  Sister  Amanda  Smith:— Please  allow  us  also,  your  little 
Sister  Caldwell,  second  in  the  train  in  the  point  of  birth,  to  bid  you 
good-bye,  as  an  assurance  of  our  good  will  toward  you,  and  also 
of  our  high  estimation  of  your  Christian  character,  and  of  your 
earnestness  and  untiring  effort  to  preach  a  pure  doctrine,  and  to 
rift  up  the  standard  of  holiness. 

Our  fathers  preached  this,  they  lived  this,  and  died  this. 
They  inculcated  the  idea  of  a  holy  life,  as  the  central  idea  of  Meth- 
odism, and  laid  it  down  as  the  corner  stone  and  basis  of  Bible  doc 
crines.  And  we  hail  it  as  an  undeniable  fact,  that  while  there  has 
oeen  some  declension  among  us  from  this  baseline  of  Gospel  truth, 
y^et  there  never  was  a  time  since  the  founding  of  the  church  in  this 
country,  when  there  were  not  witnesses,  living,  practical  witnesses, 
CO  its  truth.  Not  recognized  possibly  so  much  under  the  several 
cities  as  now  preached  by  evangelists  throughout  Christendom  in 
chese  latter  days,  as  in  its  essence  and  power. 

From  the  first  of  your  arrival  among  us,  you  began  to  give 
your  trumpet  this  certain  sound,  and  its  echoes  have  gone  all  over 
the  land.  The  churches  have  felt  the  renewed  impulse,  and  un- 
der its  inspiration  have  moved  on  apace. 

You  have  this  testimonial  also  from  us,  that  of  the  many  who 
have  come  among  us  as  missionary  workers  from  the  Mother 
Church  of  America,  none  have  been  more  truly  welcome,  none 
more  zealous,  none  more  untiring  than  yourself,  and  returning  to 
their  home  across  the  waters,  have  carried  with  them  kindlier  feel- 
ings, or  more  grateful,  than  you  do  now.  And  we  wish  to  God  that 
we  could  accord  to  others  residing  among  us  as  missionaries,  the 
tribute  we  now  accord  to  you,  a  tribute  of  unselfishness,  and  of 
purity  of  life  —  uninfluenced  by  mercenary  motives.  And  now, 
finally,  "  good-bye,"  my  dear  sister.  May  you  have  a  pleasant  and 
safe  voyage  back  to  your  home  and  friends,  and  may  many  more 


470  Autobiography  of 

years  be  added  to  your  already  useful  life,  in  the  cnjoymtiii  of 
restored  h^^alth,  and  of  increased  peace,  is  the  prayer  of 
Yours,  in  the  Lord, 

H.  B.  Capehart,  Pastor. 

J.  D.  A.  Scott,  Assistant. 

Thomas  H.  Clark,  Lay  Preacher. 

F.  T.  Clark,  Steward. 

An  Address  Delivered  to  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith,  by  the  Members  of  the 
A.  M.  E.  Zion  Church,  Sierra  Leone,  on  her  taking  leave  of  them. 

Dear  Madame: — We,  the  undersigned  members,  on  behalf  of 
the  above  church,  and  all  the  Christian  public  who  are  interested 
in  our  mission,  beg  most  respectfully  to  forward  you* this  address 
as  a  sure  testimonial  from  a  gratified  society,  that  has  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  your  visit,  and  among  whom  you  have  been  laboring  with 
unwearied  zeal,  for  the  short  time  you  have  been  in  Sierra  Leone. 

We  cannot  fully  express  ourselves  as  we  would.  We  hope  you 
should  not  think  that  we  are  flattering  you,  whilst  we  are  declar- 
ing our  sentiments;  because  we  are  candid  in  doing  so;  and  we 
trust  we  are  cautiously  avoiding  the  use  of  any  expression  that 
will  bear  any  resemblance  to  it.  When  the  Rev.  J.  R.  Frederick 
announced  to  us,  shortly  before  your  arrival,  that  you  had  kindly 
given  your  consent  to  come  and  labor  amongst  us,  he  spoke  very 
much  of  your  zeal,  labors,  and  travels,  in  very  many  places.  In 
our  opinion,  so  far  as  our  eyes  have  seen,  and  ears  heard,  we  can 
say  of  you,  that  "  the  half  was  never  told."  In  every  respect,  the 
information  is  correct. 

We  need  not  tell  you  that  all  have  been  greatly  satisfied  with 
your  discourses.  The  great  number  of  people  that  used  to  attend 
your  services,  will  prove  to  you,  that  by  all  means,  so  far  as  out- 
ward successes  are  concerned,  you  have  not  failed  in  your  work. 
We  believe  that  God  has  answered  your  prayers  in  that  way  —  you 
have  been  casting  your  net  on  the  side  of  the  ship,  that  Christ  or- 
dered; and  you  have  gathered  fishes. 

The  number  of  those  who  were  willing  to  give  up  their  sins, 
and  with  whom  you  have  been  wrestling  in  prayer  for  awhile  for 
the  help  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  will  also  convince  you  of  the  success 
of  your  labor.  Long  after  you  shall  have  left  these  shores,  the 
effects  of  your  visit  will  still  be  felt. 

We  are  thankful  to  Almighty  God  that  we  are  privileged  to 
witness  the  fulfilment  of  the  prophecy  of  Joel,  that,  '*  It  shall  come 


Amanda  Smith.  471 

to  pass  in  the  last  days,  that  I  will  pour  out  my  spirit  upon  all 
flesh,  and  your  sons  and  your  daughters  shall  prophesy,"  etc.,  etc. 

We  thank  you  also  for  the  interest  you  have  taken  on  behalf  of 
the  poor  heathen  in  the  adjacent  rivers,  where  you  have  been 
laboring  with  so  many  disadvantages.  We  are  also  thankful  to 
God  that  you  have  testified  that  your  labor  has  not  been  in  vain  — 
the  Lord  has  had  mercy,  on  those  on  whom  he  will  have  mercy. 

We  are  thankful,  also,  for  your  reproving  the  prevailing  sins  of 
the  times,  viz.:  Superstition,  adultery,  drunkenness,  slander, 
pride,  disobedience  to  parents,  hypocrisy  in  religion,  sinful  in- 
dulgences, etc.,  etc.  We  are  very  sorry  that  we  are  not  composed 
of  richer  classes  of  people,  who  will  cast  in  of  their  abundance  to 
the  treasury,  as  a  donation  for  your  services,  but  we  trust  that  of 
our  penury,  the  little  amount  realized  from  us  and  the  generous 
public,  will  be  received  by  you  as  Christ  received  the  widow's  two 
mites. 

We  feel  very  sorry  to  say  to  you,  good-bye;  but  such  is  life. 
We  hope  and  trust  that  though  we  meet  here  to  part  again, 
yet  in  Heaven  we  shall  meet  to  part  no  more.  We  pray  that 
God  may  raise  up  your  successor,  as  he  raised  up  Joshua  before 
the  death  of  Moses,  to  carry  the  souls  to  Canaan  whom  you  have 
left  by  the  way;  and  that  a  double  portion  of  your  spirit  may  rest 
upon  her. 

God  Almighty  bless  you  with  many  and  happy  days;  that  as 
His  Heavenly  hand  has  enriched  you  with  many  singular  and  ex- 
traordinary graces,  you  may  be  the  wonder  of  the  world  in  these 
latter  days  for  happiness  and  true  felicity;  and  that  the  everlast- 
ing doors  will  give  way  for  the  entrance  of  your  soul  with  Christ 
in  Paradise,  on  the  other  side  of  the  grave,  is  the  prayer  of 

Your  Brethren  and  Sisters  in  Christ. 
[Signed  by  the  Pastor  and  the  entire  membership  of  the 
church  and  Sabbath  School,  and  accompanied  by  a 
testimonial  amounting  to  over  a  hundred  dollars.  ] 

Greenville,  Sinoe  Co.,  Africa. 

To  the  Christian  Churches  wherever  established. 

Dear  Brethren,  Sisters  and  Friends  op  Jesus— Hallelujah ! 
to  the  lamb  forever.     Amen! 

This  comes  as  a  recognition  of  the  wonderful  work  of  God  in 
our  country  through  that  most  worthy  and  faithful  handmaiden 
of  His,  the  sainted  evangelist.  Sister  Amanda  Smith. 


472  Autobiography  of 

This  sister  came  to  this  country  in  the  year  1882,  laboring  in 
Montserrado  and  Grand  Bassa  Counties  as  an  Evangelist. 

In  the  month  of  November,  1882,  she  came  to  Sinoe  County, 
where  she  began  with  much  zeal  the  evangelical  works  of  her 
Lord;  landing  here  in  Greenville  on  Sabbath  morning,  four  o'clock, 
November  17th,  1883,  she  gav«  an  exhortation  that  evening  in  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  Then  began  the  working  of  the 
Lord  in  this  county. 

Her  first  object  was  Gospel  Temperance.  After  preaching  a 
series  of  sermons  she  succeeded  in  organizing  in  Greenville  a 
society,  or  Band  of  Hope,  Gospel  Temperance.  She  next  organ- 
ized a  similar  society  in  the  townships  of  Lexington,  Louisiana, 
Bluntsville,  and  Farmersville.  About  three  or  four  hundred  have 
now  become  temperance  signers,  including  men,  women,  and 
children.  Many  are  saved  from  a  drunkard's  grave,  because  there 
are  in  this  number  many  who  are  real;  nay,  they  would  taste 
death  before  violating  their  pledge.  Glory  to  God  for  this  salva- 
tion!   Amen! 

Not  satisfied  with  this  alone,  she  began  to  cry,  secondly,  that 
without  holiness  of  heart  no  man  can  see  God  in  peace.  She  earn- 
estly insisted  on  holiness,  assuring  those  who  were  justified  by 
faith  the  possibility  of  living  holy  lives  on  earth.  The  people  be- 
gan to  seek  a  closer  union  with  God.  Sister  Smith's  prayers  for 
holiness  were  real,  earnest,  and  faithful.  God  heard,  God  saw, 
God  moved! 

In  the  month  of  May,  1884,  the  holy  fire  began  to  fall.  It  fell 
first  by  degrees  in  Lexington,  then  in  copious  showers.  Next  in 
showers  it  began  to  fall  in  Louisiana,  in  Bluntsville,  finally  in 
Greenville,  and  elsewhere.  In  the  month  of  September  a  Holiness 
Camp  Meeting  was  held,  at  which  meeting  a  National  Holiness 
Camp  Meeting  was  organized,  and  at  this  place  upwards  of  one  hun- 
dred professed  sanctification  to  the  Lord,  and  are  living  for  Christ 
alone,  and  are  prepared  to  die  for  Christ,  if  need  be. 

Wherefore,  in  consideration  of  the  wonderful  works  of  God 
through  our  evangelist  and  worthy  sister,  and  in  consideration  of 
her  departure  from  us;  therefore. 

Resolved,  1st.  That  we  recognize  the  wonderful  works  of  God 
through  this  sainted  evangelist,  and  her  much  faithfulness  to  God, 
and  her  Godly  walks  and  Christian  examples  before  us;  and  that 
the  Lord  truly  sent  her  to  Africa. 


Amanda  Smith.  473 


Resolved,  2nd.  That  we,  on  behalf  of  ourselves,  and  the  Chris- 
tian Church  of  which  we  are  members,  tender  her  our  sincere 
thanks  for  her  labor  of  love,  and  a  high  appreciation  of  her  Chris- 
tian society,  assuring  her  of  the  deep  sense  of  our  feeling  of  sad- 
ness on  account  of  her  departure,  and  our  sincerity  and  continu- 
ance in  prayers  to  God  for  her  protection  and  support  wherever 
His  Spirit  may  lead  her. 

Resolved,  3rd.  That  we  recommend  Sister  Amanda  Smith  to 
the  most  favorable  consideration  of  the  pastors  and  members  of 
the  Christian  Churches  wherever  she  may  go  as  a  workman  of  God 

in  reality. 

Resolved,  4t?i.  That  we  recommend  her  now  unto  God  the 
Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Holy  Ghost,  now,  and  forever. 
Amen. 

In  witness  whereof,  we  have  hereunto  set  our  names  officially. 

William  P.  Kennedy,  Jr.,  Preacher  in  charge  of  the 

Oreemille  Circuit,  and  Presiding  Elder  of  Sinoe 

District. 

S.  D.  Mayson,  Deacon  Baptist  Church,  Lexington. 

John  L.  Fuller,  Steward  and  Leader  M.  E.  Church, 

Greenmlle. 
Z.  B.  Roberts,  Local  Preacher  M,  E.  Church,  Greenville. 
J.  W.  Bonner,  Local  Preacher. 
W.  E.  Harris,  of  Congregational  Church,  Greenville. 
H.  B.  Brown,  Leader  and  Steward  M.  E.  Church. 
Allen  Peal,  Local  Preacher. 
J.  N.  Lein,  Sup't  Presbyterian  S.  S.,  Sinoe  County. 
Geo.  B.  Dunbar. 

Z.  T.  Greene,  Superintendent  Sabbath  School,  Greenville. 
R.  P.  Mayson,  Local  Preacher,  Lexington. 
H.  C.  Birch. 
Affectionate  appreciation  of  the  labor  of  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith,  the  elect 
lady  Evangelist,   duri?ig  her  stay  in  Maryland  County,   Cape 
Palmas,  Liberia. 

Cape  Palmas,  Liberia,  Dec.  17th,  1886. 
God  sends  blessings,  often,  to  communities  and  nations  through 
feeble  instrumentalities.    When  angels,  the  higher  order  of  created 
beings  are  not  employed,  the  message  comes  to  us  through  earthen 
vessels— frail  mortality. 


474  Autobiography  of 

Divine  Providenco  has  soon  fit,  of  late,  to  visit  these  Liberian 
counties,  through  a  female  instrumentality,  in  the  porson  of  Mrs. 
Amanda  Smith,  the  elect  lady  Evangelist  of  the  Methodist  denom- 
ination of  America. 

Her  efforts  among  us  at  Cape  Palmas,  have,  under  the  Divine 
Head,  had  no  precedent  in  this  county.  The  doctrine  of  Christian 
holiness  has  been  most  beautifully  explained  by  7ier  oicn  Christian 
walks  and  teachings;  and  the  result  has  been  an  addition  of  scores 
of  members  to  the  various  Christian  denominations  of  this 
county. 

After  an  impartial  examination  of  her  teachings,  and  duly 
comparing  them  with  the  sacred  Scriptures,  we  find  them  in  per- 
fect harmon}'  with  Scripture  doctrines. 

May  her  life  be  prolonged  to  preach  Christ  and  Him  crucified, 
to  the  multitudes,  who  yet  sit  in  the  regions  of  darkness,  as  well 
as  to  explain  the  most  wholesome  doctrine  of  sanctification  for  the 
spiritual  benefit  of  those  who  are  already  justified  by  faith.  And 
may  the  Holy  Ghost  accompany  her,  and  illuminate  her  mind 
more  and  more,  unto  the  perfect  day. 

Please  receive  this  tribute  of  Christian  respect,  as  a  parting 
farewell  from  many  who  may  never  see  you  again  in  this  life;  and 
may  the  blessing  of  God  rest  upon  you  always.     Amen. 

[Signed  by  the  Officers  and  Members  of  the  M.  E.  Church 
at  Cape  Palmas.  ] 

Monrovia,  Liberia,  W.  Africa,  July  17,  1889. 

The  Band  of  Hope  Temperance  Society  of  Monrovia 
have  heard  with  regret  of  the  intended  departure,  in  a  few  days, 
of  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith  from  among  us.  They  feel  that  it  is  but 
due  to  her  to  place  on  record  the  fact,  that  Gospel  Temperance  has 
had  in  her  a  faithful  and  untiring  advocate  and  worker  ever  since 
her  arrival  in  the  Republic.  In  this,  and  other  sections  of  th*^ 
country,  she  interested  many  influential  young  men  and  women  in 
the  temperance  cause,  and  everywhere  utilized  them  as  the 
founders  and  supporters  of  the  Band  of  Hope.  She  leaves  behind 
her  a  strong,  t-^mperance  sentiment,  which,  under  God,  can,  and 
we  trust,  will  do  much  to  paralyze  and  extirpate  the  curse  of  strong 
drink. 

The  Band  of  Hope  feels  it  also  its  duty  to  note  the  fact  that 
Mrs.  Amanda  Smith  has  done  her  best  to  raise  the  standard  of 


Amanda  Smith.  475 

religious  life  and  aspirations  among  the  people  of  this  country. 
In  wishing  her  farewell  and  God  speed,  it  expresses  the  hope  that 
she  may  long  be  enabled  to  continue  to  bring  in  sheaves  for  the 
Master,  and  that  her  work  may  everywhere  have  abundant  and 
fruitful  success  with  the  seal  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

The  Band  of  Hope  is  having  prepared  an  album,  containing 
photographic  views  and  portraits  of  places  and  persons  in  Liberia 
and  West  Africa,  which  it  begs  that  Mrs.  Smith  will  accept  as  a 
reminder  of  her  visit  to  West  Africa,  and  as  a  slight  token  of  their 
appreciation  of  her  efforts  and  labors  while  in  this  region  of  the 
Dark  Continent. 

H.  W.  Travis,  Pres.  Band  of  Hope,  No.  3,  Monrovia. 
Isaac  J.  Moort,  Bee.  Sec'y  Band  of  Hope  Temperance 
Society,  No.  3,  of  Monrovia. 
I  gladly  place  on  record  the  letters  that  follow,  not  only  be- 
cause "of    the  kind    appreciation  of   myself    and    my  work  ex- 
pressed in  them,  but  in  the  hope  that  they  may  prove  a  blessing 
to  those  who  read  them.  The  first  is  from  Mrs.  Martha  Payne,  sister- 
in-law  of  ex-President  Payne,  of  Liberia;  the  second  is  from  Mrs. 
Mary  R.  Denman,  of  Newark,  N.  J.,  of  whom  I  have  also  spoken 
in  a  former  chapter;  and  the  third,  from  Mrs.  Inskip,  whose  hus- 
band was  so  well  known  throughout  the  Christian  world  as  a  leader 
in  the  Holiness  Movement.     She  also  has  been  greatly  honored  of 
God  in  the  same  blessed  evangelism. 

Martha  Payne's  Experience. 

A  Utter  to  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith. 

Monrovia,  June  19,  1883. 

My  Dear  Sister:— In  compliance  with  your  request  I  now 
conclude  to  give  my  religious  experience.  I  was  converted  at  the 
age  of  fifteen.  The  greater  part  of  the  time  I  was  in  darkness, 
because  I  did  not  have  a  daily  witness  of  the  Spirit.  I  believed 
that  a  Christian  was  to  have  a  daily  witness  as  a  child  of  God.  I 
had  a  fear  of  God  hid  in  my  heart,  but  no  lasting  joy,  and  this 
caused  me  much  uneasiness.  Sometimes  I  would  doubt  my  con- 
version. Resolve  after  resolve  was  made  to  be  true  and  stead- 
fast, but  I  found  I  was  utterly  helpless. 

My  temper  gave  me  much  trouble,  and  caused  m.'  oft'ii 
to  neglect  my  prayer.     Then  I  would  be  filhd  with  doubts  and 


476  Autobiography  op 

fears,  and  in  a  state  of  oscillation  continually.  As  the  cares  of  the 
family  increased  I  sought  for  sanctification  so  as  to  be  steadfast. 
I  did  not  receive  it,  and  became  very  dark.  I  lived  only  with  the 
fear  of  God.  Then  a  restlessness  took  hold  of  me,  impatient  to  be 
freed  from  sin.  As  I  prayed  for  grace  and  faith  the  hidden  evils 
of  my  heart  were  made  known.  Then  I  resolved  to  look  to  Christ, 
and  grew  in  grace,  taking  for  my  comfort  the  promise,  "They 
that  seek  diligently  shall  find."  I  often  read  my  Bible,  and  tried 
to  cast  my  burden  on  the  Lord,  because  I  had  learned  to  trust  him 
through  diflficulties.  The  Spirit  drew  me  and  I  followed  on  to 
know  the  Lord. 

I  had  read  "  Upham's  Interior  Life."  I  was  much  encouraged 
and  endeavored  to  be  submissive  to  all  things.  Then  I  had  severe 
trial,  and  m^^  heart  was  much  burdened.  I  arose  at  midnight  and 
submitted  all  to  God.  From  that  time  I  was  kept  steady  and  more 
willing  to  acknowledge  myself  a  follower  of  Christ  than  ever.  About 
two  years  after,Mrs.  Amanda  Smith  came  to  Monrovia  and  preachc  d 
holiness.  I  was  anxious  to  get  light  on  the  subject.  I  paid  attention  to 
all  that  was  said.  After  her  second  discourse  she  called  for  persons 
to  come  forward  to  seek  sanctification.  1  wanted  to  be  sanctified: 
promised  myself  to  seek  quietly,  to  grow  into  the  blessed  exper- 
ii'uce,  and  say  nothing  about  it  to  anyone,  for  I  had  learned  that 
great  would  be  the  gloom  if  the  blessing  was  not  found.  Some 
months  after,  Mrs.  Smith  commenced  her  work  again.  Sickness 
weakened  her  so  that  she  was  unable  to  work  as  she  desired.  In 
December  she  commenced  Bible  reading  everyday.  I  gave  «"  11 
attention  to  her  instruction,  and  did  not  allow  her  to  know  that 
I  sought  the  blessing,  notwithstanding  my  home  was  her  home. 
In  her  instructions  she  gave  us  to  know  that  we  must  be  definite 
in  our  request  to  God.  I  had  an  aversion  to  the  word  "sanctifica- 
tion," and  prayed  all  around  it.  Finally  the  middle  wall  of  par- 
tition fell,  and  I  was  willing  to  utter  the  words,  "Lord,  sanctify 
me."  I  yielded  all,  and  a  stillness  of  soul  followed  for  three  days. 
I  was  determined  to  stand  until  light  was  given.  The  stillness 
was  broken  while  I  calmly  sought,  before  retiring  for  the  night, 
with  these  words:  "The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  His  son,  cleanseth 
from  all  sin."  It  was  reasoned  with  such  force  that  I  assented 
audibly,  "Yes,  it  is  so,  because  the  word  of  God  says  so.  The 
heavens  and  the  earth  shall  pass  away  before  one  jot  or  title  of 
His  Word  shall  fail.  "    My  heart  replied:    "  Yes,  because  the  Word 


Amanda  Smith.  477 

says  so,  and  when  Jesus  Christ  said  it  is  finish«'d,  a  full  sal"ation  was 
complete."  Then,  with  all  the  earnestness  of  my  soul,  I  said: 
"Lord,  you  know,  now  let  the  Spirit  witness  with  the  blood  and 
apply  it  to  my  heart."  Then  \  felt  a  sinking  sensation  pass 
through  me.  I  fell  to  my  knees  to  pra}',  but  my  prayers  were 
turned  to  praise  and  thanks  to  Jesus.  M}'  soul  was  filled  with  humil- 
ity, and  my  eyes  with  tears.  My  faith  was  established  in  Christ, 
my  soul  was  quickened  intD  new  life,  and  I  viewed  Jesus  Christ 
by  faith  as  I  never  did  before,  with  the  promise,  "  I  will  abide 
with  you."  And  no  sooner  did  I  confess  openly  that  my  soul  was 
cleansed  from  sin,  than  it  seemed  to  me  my  whole  being  was 
changed  anew.  Glory  to  Jesus!  I  am  saved!  And  ever  since  the 
twelfth  of  December,  I  have  the  witness  within,  and  the  way  is 
more  clear  as  I  move  on. 

Your  sister  in  Jesus  Christ, 

Martha  Payne. 

Mary  R.  Denman's  Testimony. 

The  first  time  I  ever  saw  this  sister,  Mrs.  Amanda  Smith,  was 
in  1870,  at  a  time  that  I,  having  a  hungry  soul,  had  learned  that 
a  partj',  called  "Higher  Life  Christians,"  were  holding  meetings  in 
the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  rooms  in  our  city. 

I  went  to  them  to  learn  if  they  had  something  that  would  suit 
my  case.  At  the  first  meeting  I  heard  a  brother  giving  his  exper- 
ience of  the  rest  of  faith,  God  had  given  him.  At  once  I  thought 
this  was  just  what  I  wanted.  So  I  followed  them  to  one  of  their 
evening  meetings,  that  was  held  in  the  Franklin  Street  Methodist 
Church. 

Early  in  the  meeting  a  colored  woman  arose,  and  began  to 
speak  and  sing.  I  was  disgusted,  that  a  woman  should  be  allowed 
to  speak,  and  a  colored  woman  at  that,  and  felt  she  should  be 
requested  to  sit  down.  But  soon  I  became  interested  in  what  she 
was  saying,  and  enjoj-ed  her  sweet  songs,  and  at  once  felt  that  I 
wanted  the  same  faith  that  that  woman  had. 

From  that  time  I  sought  something  of  the  same  kind,  and 
found  Dr.  Palmer's  meeting.  Fifteenth  Street,  New  York.  There 
I  heard  other  men  and  women  give  their  experience,  which  taught 
me  a  great  deal. 

At  last  a  colored  woman,  sitting  the  second  st-at  from  me, 
dressed  in  plain  Quaker  dress,  arose  (after  a  man  from   Ohio  had 


478  Autobiography  of 

spoken  and  thanked  God  for  the  light  that  had  come  into  his  soul 
during  that  meeting)  and  gave  thanks  to  God  for  His  answer  to 
prayer  in  giving  that  soul  to  her  in  that  meeting. 

I  have  often  thought  since  it  was  my  soul  that  was  given  to 
her  at  that  time,  for  after  she  sat  down  I  felt  I  wanted  her  prayers, 
and  putting  by  all  my  prejudice  (I  had  lived  in  the  South  many 
3"ears),  in  asking  a  colored  person  to  pray  for  me,  1  reached  my 
hand  to  her  and  asked  her  prayers.  She  turned  to  me,  as  I 
thought,  very  coldly,  and  said:  "What  do  you  want?  " 

I  had  made  a  more  full  consecration  of  myself  during  that 
meeting,  and  now  knew  just  what  I  wanted,  and  Said,  in  answer: 
"  I  want  bodily  strength  to  do  God's  will."  She  said,  "I  will." 
And  for  the  glory  of  God,  I  wish  to  give  my  testimony  that  I  have 
had  more  bodily  strength  ever  since.  I  did  not  know  then  that 
this  woman  was  the  same  one  I  had  heard  speak  in  Franklin  Street 
Church,  for  at  that  time  she  had  not  given  up  her  irons,  and  wash 
tubs,  and  was  dressed  in  her  wash-woman's  garb. 

When  I  saw  her  the  third  time,  it  was  at  Sea  Cliff  Camp 
Meeting,  when  I  was  glad  to  tell  her  of  the  answer  to  her  prayers 
for  me. 

After  passing  through  the  ten  days'  meeting,  without  receiv- 
ing the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit  (having  been  brought  up  an  Epis- 
copalian, and  not  understanding  the  especial  need  of  a  clean  heart, 
and  this  especial  baptism),  the  dear  Lord  was  very  good  to  me", 
and  came  to  me  in  the  night  with  deep  questions  to  my  soul,  that 
I  could  not  answer  in  my  own  strength,  and  knowing  that  Amanda 
Smith  was  in  the  next  tent,  and  had  just  come  in  from  a  late 
meeting,  I  called  her,  and  she  came  in  and  knelt  down  beside  me, 
asking  what  my  trouble  was.  She  prayed  with  me,  and  made  me 
fully  to  understand  that  our  Heavenly  Father  would  not  ask  any- 
thing of  me  that  He  would  not  give  me  strength  to  do,  and  tl  at 
all  He  wanted  of  me  was  to  say  "  I  will  "  to  Him. 

When  I  fully  understood  this,  it  took  all  my  will  power  to  say 

"  I  will "  to  God,  for  I  knew  it  was  no  light  thing  to  do,  for  it  was 

to  be  "  I  will''  to  Him  for  the  rest  of  my  life.     But  when  the  "  I 

will  "  was  said,  the  power  came,  and  she  sang  that  beautiful  hymn, 

*'  'Tis  done,  the  great  transaction's  done, 

I  am  the  Lord's,  and  He  is  mine." 

I  can  never  tell  that  great  peace  that  came  to  my  soul  at  that 
lime,  and  down  in  the  depths  of  my  soul  has  remained.     Ihe 


Amanda  Smith.  479 

uppor  surface  may  be  ruffled,  as  the  ocean  often  is;  but  down  be- 
low the  surface  the  undying  peace  remains. 

Dear  reader,  I  am  glad  to  give  my  testimony  to  the  power  God 
has  given  our  dear  sister,  Amanda,  to  bring  souls  to  Him,  and  to 
help  them  on  to  kei^  steady  before  Him,  until  He  can  finish  His 
work  of  redemption  in  them.  He  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  and  is 
as  willing  to-day  to  give  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  every 
soul  who  will  come  to  Him  in  lowliness  of  heart,  and  ask  Him  for 
this  blessing,  and  believe  that  He  will  give  it.  Wait  for  it.  It 
will  surely  come,  and  you  will  be  happy.  When  ck^ne  with  the 
up-and-down  old  Christian  life,  sinning  and  repenting,  you  will 
look  to  Jesus,  moment  by  moment,  for  His  guidance,  which  He 
will  surely  give,  and  then  you  can  say  to  the  Tempter  when  he 
comes  (for  he  will  never  leave  us  while  in  the  body),  in  Jesus'  own 
words,  **Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan."  Jesus  will  open  3'our  spir- 
itual vision  when  He  comes  in  to  dwell,  and  j'ou  will  recognize  the 
temptations  of  Satan  from  the  blessed  leadings  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

Respectfully  submitted,  praying  God's  blessing  upon  these 

few  words. 

Mary  R.  Denman,  Newark,  N.  J. 

2003  Brandywine  St.,  i 

Philadelphia,  Pa.,  Dec.  22,  1887.  \ 

My  Dear,  Dear  Sister  Smith  : — Your  precious  letter  came 
to  hand,  and  it  was  too  good  to  keep;  I  had  it  published  in  the 
"  Standard,"  so  your  many  friends  would  also  enjoy  it.  It  did  my 
soul  good  to  hear  from  you;  many  thanks  for  the  same. 

The  beautiful  tribute  paid  to  my  now  sainted  husband  by  you, 
was  appreciated  by  me.  My  dear  one  often  said  he  thanked  God 
that  he  was  the  instrument,  in  God's  hands,  of  bringing  you  into 
this  beautiful  light  of  full  salvation,  or  entire  .sanctification.  That 
day,  at  "Old  Green  Street,"  was  never  forgotten  by  my  dear  hus- 
band, and  he  spoke  of  it  all  around  the  world. 

God  has  made  you  "  A  flame  of  fire  "  in  this  and  other  lands, 
and  my  dear  husband  rejoiced  in  the  glorious  work  God  enabled 
you  to  do,  and  he  used  to  say,  "Praise  the  Lord,  Amanda  Smith's 
success  is  mine." 

Oh!  with  what  interest  he  would  watch  every  move  you  made. 
He,  with  myself,  felt  anxious  for  you  to  go  to  Africa.  My  dear 
husband  often  would  say:  "That  will  be  Sister  Smith's  crowning 
glory." 


480  Autobiography  op 

I  have  no  doubt  his  spirit  has  been  very  near  you  as  you  have 
been  pushing  the  battle.  Bless  the  Lord  for  the  glorious  victories 
won. 

I  often  feel  that  my  dear  one  is  looking  over  the  "  battlements 
of  glory,"  waiting  to  welcome  me  into  that  mansion  of  glory  pre- 
pared for  us.  Oh!  Sister  Smith,  what  a  meeting,  when  the  re- 
deemed ones  shall  return  and  come  to  Zion,  with  songs  and  ever- 
lasting joy.  I  think  I  can  almost  hear  the  anthem  of  praise  unto 
Him  that  hath  loved  us,  and  given  Himself  for  us.  To  Him  be 
glor}'  and  praise  forever  and  forever.     Glory!     Glory! 

My  darling  sister,  God  has  wonderfully  given  me  physical 
strength  and  spiritual  enduement  for  the  work  he  has  called  me 
to  do.  I  promised  God,  around  the  casket  of  my  dear  one,  I  would 
give  to  Him  all  the  strength  He  gave  me  in  work. 

You  know  my  husband  was  a  wonderful  leader;  strong  and 
fearless,  yet  very  loving.  I  have  heard  Bishop  Simpson  and 
Bishop  Harris  say  he  was  the  grandest  leader  to  marshal  the 
forces  and  lead  them  into  battle  they  ever  knew.  I  have  often 
wondered  why  God  toolT  him  and  left  me;  but  I  know  He  is  too 
wise  to  err,  and  too  good  to  be  unkind;  so  I  must  leave  all  with 
Him.  What  I  do  not  know  now,  I  will  know  in  the  sweet  by 
and  by. 

God  has  helped  me  as  never  before.  After  coming  from 
Ocean  Grove,  where  I  was  kept  busy  with  work,  I  attended  the 
Holiness  Convention  in  Wilmington  four  days.  It  was  a  wonder- 
ful meeting.  Souls  converted  and  sanctified.  Brothers  Thompson, 
Pepper,  Gray,  Smith,  Todd,  Mrs.  Kenne\%  Nettie  Van  Name, 
Clara  Bo3'd  and  mother,  Mrs.  Blackston,  Bangs  and  myself  went 
from  Philadelphia.  Orr,  Smith,  Kenney,  Boyd  and  Van  Name 
stayed  the  following  week.  I  had  to  leave.  I  had  an  engagement 
with  Rev.  S.  E.  Searles,  in  Brooklyn,  two  weeks.  God  did  reveal 
Himself  in  the  salvation  of  the  people.  Glory  to  God!  We  of  ten 
spoke  of  you. 

I  had  to  leave  in  two  weeks  to  fill  an  engagement  at  Wilming- 
ton, Del.  I  was  there  nine  days.  Over  fifty  converted;  forty- 
three  united  with  the  church.  Twenty  were  entirely  sanctified, 
and  twont}'  men  and  women  (unsaved  sinners)  arose  at  the  close 
and  asked  us  to  pray  for  them.  The  meeting  we  could  not  close 
till  half  past  ten.  Last  Saturday  will  never  be  forgotten  by  the 
people  present. 


Amanda  Smith.  481 

I  have  to  leave  on  Monday  morning  to  get  ready  to  go  South, 
where  I  am  engaged,  if  my  health  holds  out.  I  shall  start  for 
Florida  in  a  few  days.  If  the  Lord  brings  you  home  we  shall  hail 
your  coming  with  delight. 

Brother  and  Sister  Thompson,  where  I  am  stopping,  say  you 
must  remember  this  is  one  of  your  homes.  They  unite  with  me 
in  much  love  to  you.  I  will  also  say  I  shall  welcome  you  to  my 
cottage  at  Ocean  Grove  when  I  am  at  home.  God  bless  you  abund- 
antly with  the  riches  of  His  grace. 

I  am  glad  Bishop  Taylor  is  doing  such  glorious  work  for 
Africa.  How  my  soul  goes  out  for  that  Dark  Continent.  I  am 
glad  God  has  used  you.  Praise  the  Lord  for  the  work  you  have 
been  able  through  God's  grace  to  do.  God  is  blessing  Sister  Ken- 
ney,  Lizzie  Smith  and  others  in  the  work.  All  your  friends  send 
lots  of  love  to  you.     God  bless  you  forever.     Love  to  all  the  saints. 

Your  loving  sister, 

Mrs.  J.  S.  Inskip. 

I  have  sent  you  the  "Missionary  Review,"  and  paid  for  it 
myself  one  year. 

The  following  letters  from  Rev.  Edgar  M.  Levy,  Annie  Wit- 
tenmyer.  Dr.  Daniel  Dorchester,  Margaret  Bottome,  Bob,  Miss 
Frances  E.  Willard  and  Lady  Isabel  Somerset,  respectively,  are 
personal,  but  will,  no  doubt,  be  read  with  interest; 

Manchester,  N.  H.,  Feb.  2,  1890. 

My  Very  Dear  Sister: — I  learn  through  the  papers  that  you 
are  now  in  London.  I  am  real  glad  that  you  are  that  much  nearer 
to  us  —  the  many  friends  who  wait  to  greet  you.  Let  me  thank 
you  for  the  kind  word  you  write  of  me,  which  I  see  in  the  **  Stand- 
ard" this  week.  I  sincerely  reciprocate  your  kind  wishes,  and  hope 
soon  to  see  you  and  renev/  our  sweet  fellowship  of  bygone  years. 

I  have  written  you  several  times  while  you  were  in  Africa, 
but  I  have  received  no  answer.  In  the  last  two  communications 
I  informed  you  that  you  might  draw  on  me  for  two  hundred  dol- 
lars. Not  hearing  from  you,  I  concluded  that  you  had  decided 
not  to  do  so  until  your  arrival  in  England,  and  your  readiness  to 
embark  for  America.  I  have  now  in  my  care  $214.21  awaiting 
your  pleasure.  If  you  will  inform  me  as  to  your  wishes,  I  will 
either  send  it  all,  or  in  part,  to  you  at  any  time,  or  I  will  keep  it 
till  you  reach  home. 


482  Autobiography  of 

When  you  write  me,  please  direct  to  the  care  of  McDonald, 
Gill  &  Co.,  36  Bromfield  street,  Boston,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 

When  you  return  1  shall  take  pleasure  in  helping  to  increase 
the  amount,  which  would  be  but  a  reasonable  return  for  all  you 
have  done  for  us  under  the  burning  sky  of  Africa.  God,  however, 
will  reward  you  in  a  far  richer  manner  —  in  the  "Well  done,  gooa 
and  faithful  servant." 

Remember  Douglass.  All  I  ask  is  that  you  give  that  camp 
meeting  the  precedence  over  all  others;  as  much  for  dear  Brother 
Morse's  sake  as  anything  else.  He  has  been  the  largest  contribu- 
tor, and  will  cheerfully  do  more  when  you  get  home. 

Our  winter  has  been  very  mild,  but  now  has  become  very 
cold.  It  looks  like  we  shall  have  the  winter  in  the  lap  of  spring. 
I  hope  God  will  guide  you  in  choosing  the  safest  time  to  return  to 
America. 

Of  course  you  have  met  dear  Brother  and  Sister  Pearsall 
Smith  in  London,  where  they  now  reside  —  44  Grosvenor  Road, 
Westminster.     We  miss  them  exceedingly. 

I  am,  you  see,  in  New  Hampshire;  not  permanently,  but  for  a 
few  months,  perhaps,  preaching  for  a  Baptist  Church —  the  most 
spiritual  I  have  ever  known.  We  are  just  now  having  a  precious 
work  of  grace;  conversions  every  night,  and  as  many  as  forty  seek- 
ing the  blessing  of  a  clean  heart.  Glory  to  God !  I  expect  Brother 
Morse  to  come  and  help  me  next  week. 

Now,  dear  [sister,  I  must  close,  commending  you  to  God  and 
the  Word  of  His  grace.     I  am, 

Yours,  in  eternal  and  holy  fellowship, 

Edgar  M.  Levy. 

Sanatoga,  Pa.,  Oct.  11,  1890. 

My  Dear  Mrs.  Smith: — I  welcome  you  back  to  America.  I 
thank  the  Lord  for  all  your  grand  work,  and  rejoice  that  He  has 
used  you  for  His  own  glory  for  so  many  years,  and  has  brought 
you  safely  back  to  us  again. 

I  send  this  as  directed  in  the  Philadelphia  Methodist,  and 
hope  it  will  reach  you.  I  want  you  to  msit  me.  I  am  thirty-three 
miles  out  from  Philadelphia,  on  the  main  line  of  the  Reading 
Railroad.  I  have  bought  a  farm  of  sixty-five  acres,  on  the  Phila- 
delphia Pike,  one  mile  or  less,  from  the  Sanatoga  station.  If  you 
will  let  me  know  when  you  are  coming,  I  will  meet  you  with  a 


'•i 


Amanda  Smith.      '  48H 

carriage.     I  have  a  big  house  and  plenty  to  eat,  and  a  warm  wel- 
come awaits  you,  and  a  good  warm  room  will  be  ready  for  you. 

My  son,  the  little  boy  who  was  with  me  at  Ocean  Grove,  is 
married;  has  a  good,  practical,  Christian  girl  for  a  wife;  and  we 
all  live  together.  There  are  only  three  in  our  family.  They  both 
join  me  in  the  invitation. 

As  ever,  your  faithful  friend, 

Annie  Wittenmyer. 
Office  of  Superintendent, 
Department  of  the  Interior, 

Indian  School  Service, 

Standing  Rock  Agency,  N.  D.,  October  29,  1891. 

Mrs.  Amanda  Smith: — Your  letter  of  August 8th,  after  many 
<vanderings,  has  at  last  reached  me  here. 

Was  very  glad  to  hear  from  you.  I  have  sometimes  wondered 
why  the  Lord  keeps  a  person  so  full  of  faith,  and  love,  and  Chris- 
tian zeal,  so  long  out  of  Heaven;  it  must  be,  that  you  may  be  a 
Dlessing  to  this  poor,  sinful,  needy  world. 

I  shall  never  forget  your  earnest  prayers,  so  full  of  faith,  and 
tne  profound  respect  the  good  people  of  Salem,  Mass.,  had  for  you 
and  your  Christian  character.  Your  labors  have  been  a  great 
bie  ssing  to  multitudes,  and  your  reward  is  on  high,  and  will  not  fail. 

May  God  greatly  multiply  such  laborers.  The  world  needs 
tnem.  With  kind  remembrances,  yours,  etc. 

Daniel  Dorchester. 

New  York. 

My  Dear  Sister  Amanda: — You  know  I  always  loved  you.  I 
think  it  was  Chaplain  McCabe  that  called  you  our  "Palm  Tree," 
In  the  years  gone  down  into  the  past,  when  we  met  you  at  our 
National  Camp  Meetings.  And  now,  in  these  latter daj'S,  you  have 
come  into  our  organization  of  The  King's  Daughters  and  Sons. 

I  am  so  glad  to  see  the  gleam  of  the  silver  cross  on  any  Daugh- 
ter or  Son,  but  when  I  saw  it  on  you,  my  princely  sister,  I  was 
peculiarly  happy.  Many  jeweled  hands  I  shall  forget,  but  never 
your  dark  hand,  raised  so  high  when  singing: 

"My  Saviour's  promise  faileth  never. 
He  counts  me  in  the  whosoever." 

You  are  a  real  daughter  of  the  King  "all  glorious  within." 
How  often  I  would  have  given  a  good  deal  to  have  heard  the  tones 
of  vour  voice  singing: 


4d4  Autobiography  op 

"The  wonder-working  JesusI 
The  very  same  Jesus! " 

Well,  he  has  worked  wonders  through  you.  Many  an  owner  of 
a  white  face  would  have  been  willing  to  have  exchanged  it  for  your 
white  soul,  but  we  are  in  a  spiritual  kingdom  where  there  is 
neither  bond  nor  free,  white  nor  black.     Christ  is  all  and  in  all. 

I  am  glad  to  think  that  wherever  you  go,  you  will  bear  the 
cross  of  our  Order,  and  I  do  hope  that  many  will  follow  you  into 
the  banqueting  house  where  His  banner  over  us  is  love.  Some 
day  we  shall  enter  the  King's  palace,  and  I  trust  be  presented 
faultless  before  the  presence  of  His  Glory;  and  the  joy  of  all  joys 
to  my  mind  will  be  that  of  giving  our  King  "  exceeding  joy  "  in 
the  presentation. 

Your  loving  President,  "I.  H.  N.,** 

Sister  Margaret  Bottome. 

This  letter  from  Bob  —  my  Bob  —  is  short,  but  will  show  how 
he  is  getting  on,  and  that  he  is  like  other  boys.  I  am  sorry  the 
sweet-shop  was  wrecked,  and  that  it  rained  so  they  could  not  go 
to  see  the  procession,  but  I  am  glad  on  account  of  the  new  boots 
and  trousers! 

Southport,  October  28th,  1893. 

My  Dear  Mother: —  I  hope  you  are  better  than  when  j'ou  last 
wrote  to  me. 

There  was  a  shipwreck  at  Blackpool  a  fortnight  ago.  The 
storm  destroyed  a  sweet-shop,  on  the  pier. 

Miss  Hobbs  has  bought  me  a  new  pair  of  boots,  and  made  me 
a  new  pair  of  trousers. 

I  am  trying  to  learn  the  books  of  the  New  Testament,  but  I 
cannot  say  them  yet. 

There  has  been  a  procession  here;  it  rained  so  we  couldn't  go 
to  see  it. 

The  Exhibition  closed  on  October  1st.  Hundreds  of  people 
came  to  it.     The  fire-works  were  lovely. 

The  weather  is  very  rainy  and  cold. 

Mr.  Walker  sends  his  love.     I  met  him  in  Chapel  Street  last 
Thursday     Miss  Hobbs  sends  her  love. 
With  much  love,  I  remain, 

Your  loving  son. 

Bob  Smith. 


Amanda  Smith.  485 

World's  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union,     \ 

Headquarteus  and  Office  of  President,         >■ 

Albany  Buildings,  47  Victoria  St.,  Westminster,    i 

London,  February  17,  1893. 
Mrs.  Amanda  Smith,  2940  South  Park  Avenue,  Chicago. 

Dear  Sister: — We  learn  that  3'ou  are  about  to  bring  out  a 
book  containing  your  experiences  of  life  which  have  been  so  varied 
and  remarkable.  We  are  glad  of  this,  and  confident  that  great 
good  will  come  of  it  to  all  who  read  it,  for  your  cheery  Christianity 
bears  the  stamp  that  should  become  universal,  and  every  fresh 
example  helps  to  bring  that  day  nearer. 

Believe  us,  your  true  friends  in  the  love  of  God, 

Isabel  Somerset. 
Frances  E.  Willard. 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

RETURN  TO  LIVERPOOL  —  FAITH  HEALING  —  BISHOP  TAYLOR  LEAVES 
AGAIN  FOR  AFRICA  —  USE  OP  MEANS  —  THE  STORY  OP  MY 
BONNET  —  TOKENS  OP  GOD's  HELP  AFTER  MY  RETURN  PROM 
AFRICA. 

I  left  Sierra  Leone  in  November,  1890.  I  was  so  miserable 
that  I  only  gave  myself  three  weeks  to  live;  I  thought  I  might 
possibly  drag  along  about  that  length  of  time. 

I  did  not  go  to  any  of  my  friends  in  Liverpool,  or  Southport, 
as  they  wanted  I  should  do.  1  was  so  tired,  and  weak,  and  I 
thought  of  the  care  and  anxiety  I  would  be  to  them,  and  then  the 
extra  work  for  the  servants — all  this  I  thought  of — though  I  never 
saw  better  principled  servants  in  my  life,  than  in  England. 

I  suppose  there  is  not  a  lady  in  England  who  would  think  of 
consulting  her  servants  as  to  whether  she  should  entertain  a  col- 
ored person  in  her  home;  I  do  not  believe  there  was  ever  such  a 
thing  heard  of  in  England.  But  such  a  thing  in  America  would  not 
be  considered  out  of  place.  I  have  met  the  like  more  than  once. 
I  was  at  a  good  lady's  house  in  Philadelphia,  not  long  since; 
she  was  very  kind  to  me,  and  wanted  to  ask  me  to  stay  for  tea,  but 
did  not  dare  to  do  so,  on  accountof  an  old  servant  who  would  have 
been  vexed  if  she  had  had  to  serve  a  colored  woman,  whom  the 
lady  herself  had  asked  to  sit  at  her  table.  It  was  night,  and  I 
only  had  to  ride  two  and  a  half  hours,  from  Philadelphia  to  New- 
ark, my  home,  and  I  got  my  own  supper,  thank  the  Lord. 

Well,  I  had  no  fears  of  this  kind  in  England.  But  I  felt  that 
I  wanted  to  be  quiet,  and  simply  let  alone.  I  had  it  in  my  mind 
all  clear  as  to  what  I  would  do  with  little  Bob. 

While  on  the  steamer  I  had  my  first  attack  of  "la  grippe."  I 
had  noi  heard  of  it  in  Africa;  it  had  not  got  there  then;  so  that  1 
did  not  know  really  what  had  happened   to  me.     But  the  good 

(486) 


Amanda  Smith.  487 

doctor  OD  the  steamer  seemed  to  understand  how  to  manage  it, 
and  with  ;Htle  things  I  knew  to  do  for  myself,  I  got  relief  in  a  few 
days.  Then  it  seemed  to  turn  again;  and,  oh!  the  pain  I  suffered. 
I  told  the  Lord  not  to  let  me  die  and  be  buried  at  sea. 

I  had  seen  poor  Mrs.  Beede,  when  on  my  way  from  Old  Cala- 
bar, buried  at  sea.  And  I  knew  all  that  would  have  to  be  done, 
and  I  shrank  from  it.  I  said,  "Oh!  Lord,  if  Thou  wilt  only  give 
me  strength  to  get  to  Liverpool,  I  will  not  trouble  Thee  any  more." 
For  I  was  so  tired  of  holding  on,  and  trying  to  keep  up;  and 
for  three  weeks  after  1  got  to  Liverpool  I  did  not  pray.  It  seemed 
to  me  the  Lord  had  done  all  I  asked  Him,  and  now  all  I  had  to  do 
was  the  little  I  could  do  for  myself,  and  just  wait  and  see  what 
next  the  Lord  would  do. 

I  calmly  looked  over  all  my  mind,  and  my  work  in  Africa.  I 
felt  that  while  there  was  so  much  to  be  done,  and  I  had  only  done 
a  little,  yet  that  I  had  God's  approval  that  I  had  done  all  I  could. 
I  went  to  Africa  at  His  bidding,  and  did  not  leave  till  I  was  sure 
I  had  His  sanction.  So  I  felt,  if  I  were  to  die,  my  conscience  was 
clear  before  my  God.  I  had  worked  willingly,  and  suffered  cheer- 
fully, in  the  work,  for  His  sake.  And  there  was  not  a  shadow 
between  my  soul  and  God,  and  I  felt  I  had  nothing  to  ask. 

We  got  into  Liverpool  on  Friday  night.  The  stewardess  said 
I  could  have  lodgings  with  her.  So  she  took  me  to  her  house.  All 
night  I  suffered.  On  Saturday  morning  I  felt  a  little  rested;  but 
the  pains  troubled  me  very  much;  so,  as  the  evening  drew  near,  I 
sent  out  and  got  some  medicine,  and  thought  I  would  go  to  bed 
early.  But  just  about  eight  o'clock,  my  dear  friend,  Mrs.  Stavely 
(whom  I  had  written  to  say  I  had  got  in,  but  did  not  expect  to  see 
before  Monday),  and  her  husband  came  in.  Dear  souls,  how  very 
kind  they  were.  They  were  delighted  to  see  me,  and  said  they 
thought  I  looked  well  to  what  they  expected.  I  told  them  how 
miserable  I  had  been,  and  how  I  had  suffered.  At  once  Mrs. 
Stavely  said: 

"Oh!  why  don't  you  trust  the  Lord  to  heal  you?" 
"  Why,"  I  said,  "  that  is  what  I  have  been  doing  all  along;  and 
I  believe  if  I  had  not  done  so  I  would  have  been  dead  long  ago." 

She  had  often  written  me  on  the  subject  of  faith  healing, 
while  in  Africa,  and  had  sent  me  numerous  papers:  then  I  knew 
dear  Mrs.  Baxter,  and  Mrs.  Dr.  Bordman,  and  many  others  of  those 
choice  spirits.     But  somehow  I  did  not  seem  to  be  able  to  see  the 


4^  Autobiography  ov 

teaching  as  they  did.  They  could  not  understand  how  anj-one  so 
strong  in  faith  as  I  seemed  to  be,  did  not  see  it;  and  they  knew, 
and  I  knew,  that  the  Lord  was  with  me,  and  did  lead  me,  and 
bless  me.     But,  like  them,  I  did  not  understand  it  myself. 

'*  However,"  I  said  to  Mrs.  Stavely.  "if  an  effort  on  my  part 
is  necessary,  I  cannot  make  it,  I  am  too  weak.  But  like  the  man 
we  read  of  in  the  Gospel,  I  am  willing  for  anybody  to  do  anything 
for  me  that  he  can." 

The  man  we  read  of  in  the  Gospel  was  too  weak  to  do  anything 
himself,  but  was  willing  they  should  take  the  roof  off  the  house 
and  let  him  down  before  Jesus;  and  Jesus,  seeing  their  faith,  said 
to  the  sick  of  the  palsy:  **  Arise."  So  I  said,  *'  there  is  just  where 
I  am.  I  am  willing,  from  the  crown  of  my  head  to  the  soles  of 
my  feet." 

"  Oh,  well,"  she  said,  *'  if  you  are  willing,  the  Lord  can  do  it." 

"But,  then,"  I  said,  "I  have  just  swallowed  a  dose  of  castor 
oil  and  laudanum  five  minutes  before  you  came  in." 

"Well,"  she  laughingly  said,  "you  can  trust  the  Lord." 

I  knew  how  very  conservative  good  Mr.  Stavely  was;  that  he 
was  not  an  enthusiast  by  any  means,  though  one  of  the  grandest 
men  I  ever  knew;  and  he  spoke  up: 

"  Yes,  Sister  Smith,  why  not  trust  the  Lord  to  heal?" 

"My,"  I  thought,  "  if  he  has  got  to  believing  so,  it  is  won- 
derful." 

After  a  pleasant  chat  they  went  home.  All  daj^  Sunday  I  suf- 
fered. There  was  a  sick  lady  in  the  next  room  lo  m-e,  and  they 
called  in  a  doctor  for  her.  He  was  a  good  Christian  man.  So,  as 
I  was  so  very  ill,  my  hostess  said  I  had  better  have  the  doctor  see 
me.  I  agreed,  and  he  came  in.  He  was  very  pleasant,  and  I  told 
him  I  was  just  from  Africa.  He  was  much  interested,  and  said 
that  they  had  a  large  mission  on  the  Congo.  He  was  delighted  to 
see  little  Bob,  and  said  he  would  like  me  and  Bob  to  come  to  Sab- 
bath School  in  their  church. 

He  left  me  some  medicine,  which  did  me  good,  and  relieved 
the  pain  so  that  I  was  able  to  sleep  a  little  on  Sunday  night. 
Then,  as  he  had  to  call  on  the  other  lady  on  Monday  and  Tuesday 
he  called  each  time  to  see  me,  also. 

I  took  the  medicine  on  Sunday  and  Monday,  but  did  not  take 
it  on  Tuesday. 

"Now,  I  ought  to  trust  the  Lord  — now  as  I  am  willing,"  I 


Amanda  Smith.  489 

said,  "but  the  doctor  is  so  kind,  he  may  not  like  it  if  he  knows  I 
am  not  taking  the  medicine;  still,  if  he  aslvs  me,  I  will  tell  him  I 
am  not  taking  it."  Then  I  prayed,  "  Lord,  do  not  let  him  ask  me 
anything  about  it." 

So  sure  i-nough  he  called  in  on  Wednesday,  had  a  nice  chat, 
and  said,  "Well,  Mrs.  Smith,  I  see  you  are  better." 

"Yes,  Doctor,"  I  said,  "I  am  feeling  much  better.  How 
much  shall  I  pay  you?" 

"Oh!  nothing  at  all.  I  am  very  glad  to  do  what  I  can  for 
you." 

So  I  thanked  him,  and  he  left. 

On  Friday  I  heard  that  Bishop  Taylor  was  in  town,  and  would 
leave  on  Saturday.  So  I  went  down  to  Mr.  Stavely's  office,  the 
Temple,  Dale  Street,  Liverpool,  and  found  that  the  office  of  An- 
derson Fowler,  Bishop  Taylor's  agent,  was  next  to  Mr.  Stavely's. 

This  was  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  a  telephone  work.  It  was  a 
new  thing  to  me.  But  I  soon  heard  from  the  Bishop.  They  said, 
"  Yes,  he  was  there;  had  just  gone  out  five  minutes  before." 

So  I  left  my  address,  and  asked  the  Bishop  to  call  on  me  at  my 
lodgings.  But,  as  the  Bishop  was  poorly,  with  asthma,  his  son, 
Mr.  Ross  Taylor,  and  Mr  Welch,  the  former  editorof  the  "African 
News,"  called  at  my  lodgings. 

I  was  delighted  to  see  them.  We  did  have  a  pleasant  time 
together.  We  had  a  little  song,  and  then  we  knelt  and  had  prayers. 
My!  how  Brother  Ross  Taylor  did  pray;  and  Brother  Welch. 
They  were  in  quite  a  hurry,  so  did  not  stop  long. 

Mr.  Ross  told  me  that  his  father  was  to  leave  for  Africa  on 
Saturday.  So  next  morning  I  got  a  cab,  and  Bob  and  I  went  down 
to  the  pier  to  see  the  Bishop  off.  I  got  there  before  the  Bishop 
arrived,  and  I  saw  him  when  he  came  on  board;  and  I  think  I 
never  pitied  a  man  so  in  my  life.  It  seemed  as  though  he  could 
scarcely  walk,  he  was  so  weak  and  thin.  I  said  to  myself,  "  That 
is  not  the  Bishop  Taylor  that  I  left  in  Africa."  Oh!  how  changed 
he  was.  After  I  had  looked  at  him  for  a  time  (for  he  did  not  see 
me)  I  went  to  him  and  said: 

"How  do  you  do,  Bishop?" 
"  Pretty  well,"  he  said. 

How  glad  he  was  to  see  Bob  and  me.  He  saw  us  last  at  Cape 
Palmas,  in  Africa.  Then  1  said,  "What  a  dreadful  cold  you 
have." 


490  Autobiography  of 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "an  attack  of  asthma.  I  have  not  had  an 
attack  before  for  (I  think  he  said)  thirty  years.  The  other  night  I 
did  not  know  but  I  was  going.  My  breath  was  so  short.  But  I 
told  the  Lord  if  He  would  spare  me  I  would  like  to  live  a  little 
longer  for  Africa." 

And  I  saw  the  great  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  his  lips  quivered. 
Then  he  brushed  the  tears  away,  and  said,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye: 

"  You  know,  Amanda,  I  have  known  men  to  die  for  want  of 
breath." 

"Y'es,"  I  said,  "they  generally  die  for  such  a  want." 

Oh!  how  I  would  like  to  have  gone  back  with  him.  As  I 
looked  at  him  I  said,  "Oh!  what  a  sacrifice,  all  for  my  people.  At 
his  time  of  life  he  ought  to  have  his  home  comforts,  with  his  wife 
to  look  after  him,  and  his  children  around  him.  Now  he  is  so 
weak  and  sick.  And  then  he  is  going  all  alone  on  the  steamer, 
and  not  a  soul  to  do  anything  for  him." 

I  cannot  tell  how  sad  I  felt.  T  said  to  Mr.  Ross,  "Can't  you 
go  as  far  as  Madeira  with  the  Bishop?" 

"No,"  he  replied,  "father  sa^^s  I  must  go  home." 

Then  the  Bishop  said  to  me,  "  Well,  good  bye,  Amanda.  Take 
good  care  of  Bob." 

I  bade  him  good-bye  the  best  I  could,  and  left,  I  never  ex- 
pected to  see  him  again  in  this  life.  When  I  got  into  the  cab,  oh! 
how  I  cried!  And  for  three  days  every  time  I  thought  of  the  dear 
old  hero,  I  had  a  good  cry;  I  couldn't  help  it.  How  good  the  Lord 
was  to  take  him  to  Africa,  and  bring  him  back  to  his  home  land 
so  well  and  strong.  How  like  a  God  is  He  who  doeth  all  things 
well.     Amen. 

Again  I  turn  to  my  story.  Going  out  at  that  time  gave  me 
fresh  cold;  I  had  not  got  my  winter  clothes  yet;  so  a  dreadful 
cough  set  in,  and  rheumatism  in  my  left  arm;  and  what  I  suffered, 
God  only  knows.  But  I  had  quit  taking  any  means.  I  was  willing 
to  trust  the  Lord. 

"Lord,"  I  said,  "there  are  all  the  things  I  have  been  taking, 
and  they  have  helped  me  up  to  a  certain  point,  and  then  I  had  to 
trust  you.     So  I  will  trust  you  and  do  without  taking  anything." 

Now  this  time  the  Lord  did  not  seem  to  test  me  as  before.  I 
just  wanted  a  little  relief  from  pain,  for  I  was  going  to  die  anyhow. 
So  I  went  on. 

One  night  about  two  o'clock,  I  had  not  slept  a  wink  up  to  that 


Amanda  Smith.  491 

time,  I  was  sitting  up  in  bod  crying  with  pain  in  my  arm.  Dear 
little  Bob  was  in  bed  beside  me,  sleeping  away.  Everybody  in  the 
house  was  asleep;  my  cough  was  terrible;  and  I  said,  "Oh!  Lord, 
help  me.  What  shall  I  do?"  and  as  though  some  oneone  stood 
by  me  and  spoke,  I  heard,  "Put  cotton  batting  on  your  arm." 

"Thou  knowest,  "I  replied,  "  I  have  not  got  any;  but  in  the 
morning  I  will  ask  the  lad}^  if  she  has  any." 

So  I  did,  and  she  gave  me  some.  I  got  down  before  the  fire  on 
my  knees,  and  put  on  the  cotton  batting  It  did  seem  to  relieve 
me,  and  the  pain  seemed  to  quiet  down  as  I  knelt  down  before  the 
fire  and  it  got  warm,  and  I  fell  into  a  little  doze  of  sleep.  It  was 
better  next  da}',  but,  oh  I  so  sore.  I  told  my  friends  I  believed  it 
was  the  good  Spirit  that  prompted  me  to  put  on  the  cotton  bat- 
ting. But  they  thought  I  should  not  have  done  it,  but  simply 
ignored  the  plan,  and  just  trusted  the  Lord. 

Well,  I  tried  the  best  I  could.  They  sent  me  books  on  the  sub- 
ject; but  I  said,  "I  will  not  read  anything  but  the  Bible.  I  am 
going  to  take  the  Word  of  God,  and  ask  help  of  the  Spirit." 

All  right.  One  night  after  this  my  cough  troubled  me  so  that 
I  could  not  sleep.  After  a  severe  fit  of  coughing,  I  said,  "Oh! 
Lord,  do  help  me.  What  must  I  do?  "  And  in  an  instant  a  voice 
distinctly  said  to  me,  "Beet  root  tea  will  allay  the  irritation." 
And  I  said,  "Now,  Lord,  if  that  is  Thy  voice  speaking  to  me, 
please  keep  it  in  my  mind  till  morning  and  I  will  do  it." 

I  remembered  that  twenty  years  before  I  was  told  this  thing, 
and  did  it  for  a  friend  who  was  ill  with  cold,  and  it  helped  her; 
but  I  didn't  remember  that  I  had  ever  thought  of  it  from  that 
time  until  it  came  to  me  that  night. 

This  was  between  three  and  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
About  da3'-break  I  got  a  little  quiet;  and  at  seven  o'clock  a  servant 
came  in  and  made  the  fire,  and  it  came  to  me  about  the  beet  root. 
I  said,  "Well,  I  am  better  now,  and  I  needn't  mind  about  it." 

I  got  up  at  eight,  and  it  came  again,  "Beet  root  tea."  But 
still  I  did  not  heed.  About  nine  o'clock  the  same  whisper  came 
to  me  again: 

"  You  said  if  the  Lord  would  keep  it  in  your  mind  till  morn- 
ing, you  would  make  the  beet  root  tea." 

"So  I  did." 

And  I  called  Bob  and  sent  him  downstairs  to  ask  the  lady  if 
she  had  any  red  beets.     She  sent  me  two  small  ones,  but  very  nice 


493  Autobiography  of 

and  red;  I  had  a  small  sauce  pan,  and  I  put  them  in  and  boiled 
them  and  made  a  strong  cupful  and  drank  it,  and  it  did  allay  the 
irritation  so  that  I  coughed  but  little  after  that  to  what  1  had  done 
before;  and  I  shall  ever  believe  that  God  was  teaching  me  not  to 
ignore  the  use  of  all  means  in  sickness. 

I  believe  that  God  is  honored  as  much  when  He  tells  me  to 
do  a  thing  and  I  obey,  as  when  He  says  not  to  do  it,  and  I 
obey.  "Thou  Shalt  not  covet."  " Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thy  heart."  To  me  obedience  in  both  cases  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  honor  God.     I  only  receive  blessings  as  T  obey. 

Rev.  D.  F.  Sanford,  of  Boston,  was  so  kind  to  Bob  and  me,  and 
he  and  his  wife  were  at  the  Berachia  home,  at  Soul-hport,  and 
during  the  series  of  meetings  he  was  holding  he  gave  Bible  read- 
ings on  this  subject;  and  it  seemed  so  clear,  and  many  seemed  to 
get  help  and  blessing,  and  I  did  too. 

But  many  thought  I  was  not  half  out  of  the  woods.  So  one 
day  two  ladies  called  to  see  me,  after  I  had  returned  to  Liverpool. 
I  had  never  seen  them  before,  but  they  said  they  had  heard  of  me; 
and  one  of  them,  Mrs.  A.,  told  me  of  her  wonderful  experience  of 
how  she  was  healed  of  dropsy. 

I  was  deeply  interested,  as  she  went  on  narrating  all  the  inci- 
dents in  relation  to  it,  and  how  she  used  oil  and  anointed  herself, 
as  she  said  she  felt  the  Lord  led  her  to  do. 

"  Oh,"  I  said,  "  I  was  out  last  evening  to  the  shop,  and  it  came 
to  me  to  get  some  sweet  oil." 

"  That  is  it,"  she  said  at  once. 

"  But,"  I  said,  "  I  did  not  get  it." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "olive  oil  is  the  best;  but  I  did  luot  have 
that  in  my  case.     Haven't  you  got  oil  of  any  kind  in  the  house?  " 

"  Only  a  little  castor  oil  that  was  left  in  the  glass." 

'It  only  needs  a  few  drops,  and  that  will  do." 

So  1  knelt  down,  and  they  anointed  me  with  this  oil,  and 
prayed  very  earnestly.  They  both  said  they  got  such  a  baptism 
when  they  were  healed;  so  I  could  not  help  expecting  some  assur- 
ance to  this  work  of  healing  my  bod}',  as  I  did  to  my  sanctification 
and  justification. 

They  told  me  this  was  right  for  me  to  expect,  for  God  had 
made  the  provision  for  the  body's  healing,  with  that  of  the  soul] 
and  I  did  honestly  try  to  see  it  just  as  they  did.  But  I  could  not. 
I  went  on  for  ten  days  waiting  for  this  especial  assurance  that  I 


Amanda  Smith.  493 

was  ri'ally  healed.  Oh!  how  I  longed  for  it,  but  1  never  got  any 
such  assurance.     Still  I  held  on  by  faith. 

Christmas  came.  My  dear  friend,  Mrs.  Stavely,  had  invited 
me  to  Seaforth.  It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  I  got  there. 
When  I  did,  oh!  what  a  night  of  suffering.  She  prayed  with 
me.  Oh,  how  true  and  kind  she  was.  Her  faith  held  on  to  God 
for  me. 

Next  day  another  dear  friend,  Mrs.  D.,  came;  and  they  two 
together  prayed  and  encouraged  me  to  still  hold  on;  that  all  the 
pain  I  suffered  was  simply  a  temptation;  the  Lord  would  heal  me. 
I  made  my  will  do  the  best  it  would;  but  I  felt  the  pain  just  the 
same. 

About  noon  I  got  up,  and  they  helped  me  to  get  my  clothes 
on.  They  were  so  anxious  I  should  be  down  to  Christmas  dinner 
with  them.  So  I  was,  and  as  best  I  could,  endured  the  pain 
through  dinner.  When  it  was  over  I  could  not  hold  out  any  longer; 
I  went  up  to  my  room,  and  walked  the  floor  in  agony.  I  tried  to 
ignore  the  pain;  but  in  spite  of  my  will  and  faith,  it  would  not  be 
ignored  a  bit! 

About  day-break  I  got  a  little  quiet  and  slept  a  little;  and 
while  the  pain  was  not  so  bad  as  it  had  been,  it  was  three  weeks 
before  I  was  able  to  get  my  arm  above  my  head.  And  when  I 
would  use  any  means,  or  talk  of  it,  my  friends  would  feel  so  sorry 
for  me,  and  say  that  it  was  not  honoring  the  Lord  to  do  so. 

But  I  had  sincerely  prayed  for  light.  And  I  believe  God  has 
given  it  to  me;  if  for  no  one  else.  He  does  to  Amanda  Smith,  and 
I  feel  quite  sure  I  am  not  mistaken  in  God's  leading  me.  I  think 
He  has  saved  me  from  bondage  on  these  points.    Amen.    Amen. 

As  one  of  the  little  incidents  that  reached  its  culmination 
after  my  return  from  Africa  to  England,  I  must  here  relate  the 
story  of  my  bonnet  —  not  a  very  important  story  in  itself,  but,  like 
most  stories,  it  has  its  moral,  also,  if  we  choose  to  see  it. 

How  I  did  hate  to  give  up  m}^  nice  Quaker  bonnet!  I  had  no 
special  feeling  about  putting  it  on,  so  far  as  feathers  and  flowers 
were  concerned.  I  settled  that  when  I  was  converted.  All  of 
those  things  were  surrendered,  though  the  love  of  them  was  deep 
in  my  heart,  so  that  when  I  sought  the  blessing  of  cleansing  I  had 
no  difficulty  on  the  dress  question. 

I  always  admired  the  Friends'  dress,  so  this  was  at  once  my 
choice,  and  at  that  time  many  of  the  Christian  sisters  among  all 


494  Autobiography  op 

the  colored  churches  in  Philadelphia,  New  York,  and  Baltimore, 
dressed  like  the  Friends,  and  were  generally  called  Band  Sisters, 
and,  as  a  rule,  were  noted  for  their  deep  piety  and  Christian  char- 
acter. I  loved  them  for  this,  as  well  as  admired  their  very  plain 
dress,  for  the  height  of  my  ambition  was  to  be  a  consistent,  down- 
right, outright  Christian. 

It  was  not  a  question  of  3'our  belonging  to  the  Society  of  Friends 
because  you  chose  to  dress  like  them.  I  remember  that  not  only 
colored  Methodists  dressed  like  them,  but  white  Methodists  as 
well,  so  that  I  never  dreamed  of  anyone  questioning  me  on  my 
plain  dress.  When  I  got  to  England  I  found  it  was  different, 
dressing  like  a  Friend  and  not  being  a  Friend,  and  none  of  my 
people  being  Friends.  They  did  not  understand  it,  so  as  I  went 
about  I  was  often  questioned,  though  in  a  very  nice  way. 

I  was  with  the  Friends  a  great  deal,  and  they  were  most  hos- 
pitable and  kind.     They  would  sometimes  say; 

'*  Does  thee  belong  to  the  Society  of  Friends?  " 

"No." 

*'  Did  thy  father  and  mother? " 

•♦No." 

**  And  none  of  thy  people  are  Friends?  " 

**No." 

"How  strange  that  thee  should  wear  the  Friends'  garb." 

Well,  then  I  would  go  into  a  long  explanation,  tell  of  Ameri- 
cans being  independent  in  what  they  choose;  how  no  one  felt 
bound  to  wear  any  set  garb;  that  Methodists  or  Presbyterians,  no 
matter  who,  if  they  liked  to  dress  like  the  Friends,  or  anybody 
else,  if  they  had  the  money,  just  got  the  article,  whatever  it  was, 
and  no  one  had  any  thought  about  it. 

They  would  listen  patiently,  and  then  kindly  say:  "Well,  I 
think  if  I  were  thee,  I  would  not  do  it." 

I  didn't  understand  it  at  first,  but  later  on  I  found  out  that  no 
one  in  England  would  wear  a  Friends'  bonnnet  who  was  not  a 
Friend,  if  they  did  they  would  be  suspected  of  pretending  to  be 
what  they  were  not.  When  I  first  heard  this  I  was  frightened.  I 
said,  "Oh,  deary  me,  is  this  why  I  have  been  so  questioned?  " 

As  I  was  going  from  place  to  place,  everybody  treated  me 
most  kindly,  but,  "oh,"  I  said,  "has  this  been  the  thought  in 
their  mind,  that  I  have  been  pretending  to  be  what  I  am  not? " 

I  prayed  and  cried  about  it  a  great  deal  for  the  Lord  only 


Amanda  Smith.  495 

fenows  how  I  hate  deception  or  sham  in  anything,  but  especially 
in  Christianity  or  religion;  but  then,  I  could  do  nothing.  I  thought, 
if  I  take  off  my  bonnet,  and  I  did  not  want  to  do  so,  for  I  really 
loved  it,  but  slill  if  I  should  take  it  off,  and  see  persons  from 
America  who  knew  me,  that  they  would  say,  "Yes,  that  is  just 
what  we  thought,  Amanda  Smith  would  take  off  her  plain  bonnet 
when  she  got  to  England! " 

Then  the  people  on  this  side  thought  I  was  representing  my- 
self, by  wearing  the  Friends'  dress,  to  be  what  I  was  not. 

So  there  I  was,  between  two  fires,  and  the  thought  of  sailing  un- 
der false  colors,  this  was  more  than  I  could  bear,  but  I  stood  it 
until  I  got  back  to  Liverpool,  then  I  had  to  get  a  new  bonnet.  I 
dreaded  going  through  the  explanation  again.  I  saw  that  the  set- 
tled ladies  were  wearing  little  bonnets.  I  thought,  "What  shall 
I  do,  I  can  never  wear  a  little  bonnet." 

I  thought  if  I  could  find  a  Friends'  milliner,  I  would  get  me 
a  plain  bonnet  if  it  were  not  a  real  Friends'  bonnet.  I  knew  I 
could  not  get  what  I  wanted  at  any  ordinary  milliner,  and  I  did 
not  know  where  to  go  in  Liverpool  to  find  a  Friends'  milliner. 

I  wrote  to  my  friend,  Mrs.  Margaret  Davis,  of  Fox  Rock,  Dub- 
lin, and  told  her  my  dilemma.  She  wrote  and  told  me  she  thought 
I  was  quite  right  about  getting  the  bonnet  I  wanted,  and  that  she 
would  find  out  where  I  could  find  a  Friends'  milliner  in  Liverpool. 
But  before  I  got  her  word,  two  ladies  called  on  me  and  would  go  wi  th 
me  to  get  some  warmer  clothing.  It  was  very  cold  and  I  had  only 
my  African  clothes,  four  double,  but  then  I  was  not  warm,  so  we 
went  shopping,  as  we  would  say  in  England. 

The  ladies  got  me  a  nice  fur  cloak,  warm  under  flannels,  nice 
jersey  jacket,  stockings,  gloves,  etc.,  then  they  said: 

"  Is  there  anything  else,  Amanda?" 

"That  is  all,"  I  replied. 

Just  then  one  of  the  ladies  said,  "  Oh,  you  must  have  a  nice 
bonnet!" 

Then  I  told  them  I  was  waiting  for  a  letter  so  as  to  know  where 
to  go.     They  said,  "You  will  not  wear  that  big  bonnet  again." 

I  tried  to  explain  to  them  as  best  I  could,  but  they  insisted 
that  I  must  get  a  bonnet,  "properly,"  as  they  said.  So  we 
went  into  the  millinery  department  and  got  me  a  "nice  bonnet," 
the  largest  one  they  had,  and  that  was  not  very  large,  and  the 
plainest. 


496  Autobiography  of 

So  I  went  on  all  right  until  I  came  back  to  America,  then  here 
it  was  again,  "Oh,  what  have  you  done  with  your  plain  bonnet?" 
I  felt  so  sick  of  explaining  that  I  felt  like  starting  a  new  style  and 
wearing  no  bonnet  at  all! 

Scores  of  people  have  asked  me  about  my  bonnet  that  have 
never  thought  of  asking  me  how  my  soul  prospered,  and  this,  after 
all,  is  more  important  in  God's  sight  than  though  I  wore  a  hun- 
dred plain  bonnets. 

I  thought  it  well  to  give  this  final  explanation.     Amen. 

I  had  a  great  many  expenses  during  my  stay  at  Sierra  Leone. 
I  had  my  two  native  children.  Bob  and  Frances,  with  me,  and 
the  little  girl  was  sick  all  the  time.  I  did  everything  I  could  for 
her  to  get  her  well  enough  to  bring  with  me. 

She  had  been  sick  for  three  months  before  I  left  Monrovia; 
but  I  had  got  her  well  enough  to  get  as  far  as  Sierra  Leone,  where 
I  hoped,  through  better  medical  attendance,  she  would  get  quite 
well  enough  for  me  to  bring  to  England. 

After  spending  three  or  four  months  in  Sierra  Leone,  and  do- 
ing all  I  could  for  her,  paying  doctors'  bills  and  all,  the  doctor 
told  me  at  last  that  the  child  could  not  stand  the  climate  if  I 
brought  her,  and  that  she  would  be  a  great  deal  of  trouble  and 
care,  so  I  had  to  decide  to  leave  her,  as  I  had  little  Bob  to  look 
after. 

Then  I  had  to  provide  everything  for  Frances,  so  as  to  leave 
her  comfortable,  as  I  was  going  to  bring  little  Bob  with  me.  This 
made  my  expenses  more;  but  I  had  quite  enough  to  bring  me  to 
Liverpool,  if  T  could  live  to  get  there,  though  sometimes  I  was  a 
little  doubtful  whether  I  would.  But  the  Lord  understood  my 
case. 

It  was  not  long  after  I  got  there  before  my  loving  Father,  God, 
began  to  fulfill  that  blessed  old  promise,  that  He  gave  me  when  I 
left  America:  "  My  God  will  supply  all  your  need  according  to 
His  riches  in  glory,  by  Christ  Jesus."  Phil.  4:19.  Different 
friends  began  to  send  in,  as  I  have  alreadj'  shown;  some,  three 
pounds;  then  two  pounds;  others,  one  pound. 

One  week  when  I  needed  just  four  shillings  to  pay  for  my 
lodgings  at  Liverpool,  before  leaving  for  my  friend,  Mrs.  Stave- 
ley's,  at  Seaforth,  whei  ^  I  was  going  that  afternoon,  the  postman 
brought  a  letter  in  the  morning,  and  when  I  opened  it  it  was  from 
America,  and  contained  one  dollar.    I  did  not  know  the  sender  —  no 


Amanda  Smith.  497 

iiiimc  —  only  "God  bless  you;  I  welcome  you  back  from  Africa." 
That  was  all.  So  1  praised  the  Lord,  paid  for  my  lodgings  and 
left. 

"This,  this  is  the  God  I  adore. 
My  faithful,  unchangeable  friend 
His  love  is  as  great  as  His  power, 
Which  neither  knows  measure  nor  end." 


CHAPTER    XXXVT. 

WORK  IN  ENGLAND  — IN  LIVERPOOL,  LONDON,  MANCHESTER,  AND 
VARIOUS  OTHER  PLACES  —  I  GO  TO  SCOTLAND  AND  IRELAND 
—  SECURE  PASSAGE  TO  NEW  YORK  —  INCIDENTS  OF  THE  VOY- 
AGE—  HOME   AGAIN  —  CONCLUDING   WORDS. 

My  first  work  in  England,  after  my  return  from  Africa,  was 
at  Gordon  Hall,  Mrs.  Stephen  Menzies',  Liverpool,  where  I  spoke 
at  a  large  conference  and  sang,  and  the  Lord  blessed  me  greatly. 
My  next  work  was  at  Fleshfield,  at  Mr.  Radcliff's.  I  began  on 
Watch  Night  and  spent  a  week.  I  was  not  well,  but  somehow  the. 
Lord  helped  me  to  speak  to  a  large  congregation  in  the  little 
chapel.  From  there  I  went  to  Southport  and  assisted  in  some 
meetings  held  by  Rev.  D.  F.  Sanford,  of  Boston,  U.  S.  A. 

All  this  time  I  was  miserable,  but  I  would  earnestly  pray  and 
ask  the  Lord  to  strengthen  me,  and  He  would  always  do  it,  but  I 
see  now  the  wise  thing  would  have  been  for  me  to  have  rested  en- 
tirely, for  that  was  my  real  need,  and  the  strength  I  used  in  pray- 
ing I  should  have  spent  in  resting,  I  believe  this  would  have  been 
pleasing  to  God.  What  a  dull  scholar  I  have  been  in  His  school 
and  yet  He  has  been  so  patient  with  me. 

Then  I  held  several  meetings  in  Liverpool;  then  on  to  Doncas- 
ter,  was  entertained  at  the  home  of  Miss  Morris,  Chequer  House. 
I  shall  never  forget  her  kindness  to  Bob  and  me.  Here  I  had  some 
rest,  but  held  a  number  of  meetings,  some  in  the  hall  of  the  Y.  M. 
C.  A.,  and  Mother's  Meetings,  and  several  drawing  room  meetings 
at  Mrs.  Richard  Norris';  and  various  other  meetings.  From  Don- 
caster  we  went  to  London  on  our  way  to  Folkston.  My  dear  friend, 
Mrs.  D.  Bordman,  of  London,  had  kindly  invited  me  to  stop  on 
my  way.  She  had  also  kindly  arranged  a  little  quiet  reception. 
A  number  of  friends  were  invited,  among  those  that  were  present 
was  Mrs.  Hannah  Whitehall  Smith,  Mrs.  Mark  Guy  Pierce,  and 

(498) 


Amanda  Smith.  499 

others.     This  was  a  surprise  to  me,  but  it  was  a  blessed  meeting 
and  meant  more  to  me  than  I  have  hinguage  to  express. 

From  London  I  went  on  to  Folkston,  where  I  had  been  sent 
for,  to  hold  a  special  service  at  the  Railway  Mission.  Here  Bob 
and  I  had  nice  lodgings  provided;  and  it  was  here  where  little  Bob 
was  converted,  one  morning  just  after  breakfast  as  we  kneeled  to- 
gether to  have  our  morning  worship.    Praise  the  Lord! 

I  shall  never  forgot  the  blessing  the  Lord  gave  us  at  Mr.  Tokes' 
church.  He  is  a  grand  man  of  God,  a  staunch  churchman,  but 
whatiscalled  LowChurch;  broad,  butorthodox,  so  that  he  invited 
a  woman  to  take  services  in  his  church,  and  God  wonderfully 
blessed  his  work  and  people.  One  dear  woman  told  me  that  she 
had  sought  the  blessing  of  heart  purity  for  several  years,  but  she 
said  somehow  the  Lord  helped  me  to  make  the  way  so  simple  that 
she  saw  it,  believed,  and  entered  into  rest.  Her  face  beamed  with 
delight.     To  Him  alone  be  glory  forever. 

Then  on  Sunday  night  the  Congregationalist  minister  invited 
the  Railway  meeting  over  to  his  fine  church,  which  was  just 
across  the  street,  the  crowd  being  so  great  we  couldn't  seat  them 
in  the  hall.  He  threw  open  his  pulpit;  though  it  was  a  new 
thing  under  the  sun  for  a  woman  to  stand  in  the  pulpit  of  a  Con- 
gregational Church;  and  I  must  confess  I  did  feel  a  little  shaky 
myself  to  be  up  there  alone;  but  I  cried  mightily  to  the  Lord  for 
help,  and,  if  ever  He  did  help  me.  He  did  that  Sunday  night,  and 
blessed  His  own  Word  to  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  several  en- 
tered in  and  found  soul  rest.     Praise  the  Lord! 

Then  I  spoke  at  several  other  meetings,  including  one  of  the 
Salvation  Army,  who  were  doing  a  grand  work  at  Folkston.  They 
had  given  me  an  urgent  invitation  to  speak  for  them.  I  had  but 
one  night  that  I  could  possibly  give,  so  I  went  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  and  did  what  I  could. 

From  Folkston  I  went  to  London,  spent  a  few  days  with  Mrs. 
Col.  Finch  White,  at  Louishem  Hill.  Here  I  held  several  meet- 
ings, including  a  drawing  room  meeting  at  Mrs  Finch  White's. 
Drawing  room  meetings  in  England  are  not  a  rare  thing  as  they 
are  in  America,  I  think,  as  I  have  never  held  any  here,  but  did  so 
often  in  England,  and  often  with  great  profit,  I  trust. 

Thursday,  April  3,  I  leave  London  for  Southport,  and  stop  at 
Mrs.  Stavely's  Berachia  Home.  Monday.  April  10,  I  take  Bob  to 
Miss  Hobb's  school,  where  he  is  now,  and  has  been  ever  since. 


500  Autobiography  op 

How  good  the  Lord  was  to  open  this  door  of  mercy  to  this  dear 
boy;  thus  the  promise  is  true,  "If  ye  shall  ask  anything  in  My 
name,  I  will  do  it."  On  the  16th  I  go  to  a  Conference  at  Manches- 
fer,  Mr.  Crossley's,  Star  Hall.  This  was  a  blessed  meeting,  con- 
ducted by  Rev.  D.  F.  Sanford,  to  which  I  was  invited  and  enter- 
tained at  Mr.  Crossley's  home  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sanford,  and 
though  I  did  but  little,  the  Lord  blessed  me.  And  when  I  was 
leaving,  Mr.  C.  handed  me  a  check  for,  I  think,  ten  pounds  —  am 
not  quite  sure  as  to  the  amount  —  but  at  all  the  places  they  paid 
me  well. 

Besides  the  meetings  at  Star  Hall,  I  took  a  meeting  at  a  large 
mission  hall  carried  on  by  the  Society  of  Friends.  Here  the  Lord 
gave  His  blessing  on  the  Word. 

April  the  23rd,  I  leave  Manchester  for  Southiport,  attend  to 
some  little  matters  for  Bob,  then,  on  Friday,  April  25,  I  leave 
Southport  for  London,  stop  at  Mrs.  Isabella  Walker's,  where  I  had 
had  a  very  warm  invitation  to  spend  some  time  at  her  home.  This 
lady  was  anxious  I  should  go  to  some  of  the  meetings  held  at  the 
headquarters  of  the  Salvation  Army,  Congress  Hall. 

This  I  was  not  able  to  do,  but  spent  two  very  pleasant  weeks 
with  Mrs.  Walker,  at  Clapham.  How  the  grace  of  God  was  mag- 
nified in  this  lady's  home  life,  a  lady  of  rank  and  culture  and  posi- 
tion, but  so  fully  consecrated  to  God.  She  was  Mrs.  Booth's 
warmest  friend,  and  was  with  her  through  her  last  severe  illness. 
It  was  here  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Col.  Clib- 
born,  of  the  Salvation  Army,  whose  work  is  in  Paris.  May  the 
Lord  bless  them. 

May  the  1st,  I  was  invited  by  Mr.  Reader  Harris  and  Rev.  D. 
F.  Sanford  to  be  at  their  anniversary  meeting  at  Speak  Hall,  Clap- 
ham.  This  is  a  great  meeting,  held  every  year,  and  has  been  a 
great  blessing  to  scores  of  souls  from  all  parts  of  England. 

May  7th,  through  the  invitation  of  Mr.  Clifford,  Honorable 
Treasurer  of  the  Great  Church  Army,  I  speak  at  the  anniversary 
meeting  at  Piccadilly.  The  crowd  was  very  great,  but  the  Lord 
gave  His  blessing;  then  I  addressed  several  meetings  at  Miss 
Mason's  House  of  Rest,  Cambridge  Gardens,  London,  West. 

Saturday,  May  10,  at  Woodgreen,  Mr.  Morgan,  the  editor  of 
"The  Christian,"  invited  me  to  take  some  services  at  his  hall  on 
Sabbath  and  several  week  nights.  Here  again  the  Lord  was 
pleased  to  give  tokens  of  His  favor,  and  a  number  professed  to 
have  found  peace  in  believing. 


Amanda  Smith.  501 

On  the  24th,  I  leave  London  for  Scotland,  stop  at  Carlisle,  with 
Mrs.  Walker's  sister,  Mrs.  Johnston.  What  a  lovely  home  this  is. 
I  was  so  tired  and  would  so  like  to  have  rested,  but  I  had  not  been 
in  long  before  a  number  of  dear  friends  gathered  and  I  had  to  have 
a  meeting.  I  felt  1  really  could  not,  at  first,  but  I  asked  the  Lord 
to  help  me,  and  He  did,  praise  His  name.  On  Monday,  the  20th, 
I  leave  Carlisle  for  Alloa,  Scotland.  Miss  Patten,  of  Morris  Hill 
House,  through  my  dear  friend,  Mrs.  Lisle,  had  kindly  invited  me 
lo  Alloa  to  have  a  little  rest,  God  bless  her,  I  shall  never  forget  her 
kindness  in  every  way  to  me.  Before  I  ever  saw  her  she  wrote 
and  sent  me  five  pounds,  which  came  just  at  a  time  when  I  needed 
it.     God's  word  of  promise  did  not  fail.     (Phil.,  4:19). 

After  a  little  rest,  I  held  several  meetings  at  different  places  in 
Scotland,  at  Alloa  and  then  at  Crief.  Here  Miss  Patten  took  me 
lo  the  great  Hydropathic  institution,  at  her  own  expense,  where  I 
could  well  have  spent  a  month,  but  because  of  an  engagement  for 
some  meetings  at  Edinburgh,  I  could  only  spend  one  week.  How 
kind  the  people  were,  and  the  baths  and  treatment  that  I  received 
during  the  short  stay  did  me  the  greatest  good.  I  shall  ever  praise 
God  for  Miss  Patten,  and  for  the  kindness  shown  me  at  this  beau- 
tiful institution.  I  was  asked  to  give  a  little  missionary  talk  one 
morning  in  the  chapel,  which  seemed  to  be  very  much  appre- 
ciated. 

From  Crief  I  went  to  Edinburgh,  after  holding  meetings 
a  week,  arranged  by  Mr.  Govern,  who  had  also  arranged  a  series 
of  meetings  at  Peble's,  on  the  River  Glide,  and  at  a  number  of 
other  places.  Then,  leaving  there,  I  went  to  Blaine  O'Chile, 
Dunblain.  I  went  on  Friday  to  stay  until  Monday.  This  lady, 
Mrs.  Chapman,  was  a  very  dear  friend  of  Mrs.  Lisle,  who  had 
spent  a  number  of  years  in  Africa  on  the  Congo  and  at  Old  Calibar, 
where  I  first  met  her,  and  worked  with  her  a  little  while  there  It 
was  through  her  that  I  got  to  know  Mrs.  Chapman;  since  then  she 
has  gone  to  her  reward.     May  God  bless  her  memory. 

Mrs.  Chapman  is  a  lady  of  large  means,  and  I  think  I  never 
saw  one  whose  means  and  all  was  so  fully  consecrated  to  God. 
How  many  young  men  she  has  educated  for  foreign  work,  both 
white  and  colored,  and  has  also  been  the  help  of  many  others. 
Her  record  is  in  heaven. 

She  invited  me  to  come  and  see  her  before  I  left  Scotland.  I 
was  getting  ready  to  go  home  and  I  felt  I  needed  the  money,  still 


503  Autobiography  of 

I  wanted  to  go  and  see  this  lady,  so  T  told  the  Lord  if  He  would 
have  me  go,  not  to  let  me  be  anxious  about  the  means,  but  to 
open  the  way  for  me.  T  had  a  good  quiet  Saturday,  and  it  was 
very  stormy  and  rainy  on  Sunday,  so  that  Mrs.  S.  said  we  would 
not  go  to  church  in  the  morning.  In  the  afternoon  she  asked  me 
if  I  would  take  a  service  and  speak  to  the  servants  in  the  large 
kitchen.  This  I  did,  and  spoke  with  great  freedom  from  the  15th 
of  John.  We  had  a  very  interesting  meeting.  At  the  close  Mrs. 
S.  said,  I  think  the  meeting  has  been  very  profitable.  She  was  very 
pleased,  and  as  we  went  to  the  next  room  she  said.  "I  want  to 
hand  you  a  little  donation,"  so  she  handed  me  six  pounds.  I 
said,  how  the  Lord  has  answered  prayer! 

On  Monday  morning  as  I  was  leaving  she  said,  "I  think  I  had 
better  give  you  another  pound."  I  thanked  her  and  praised  the 
Lord. 

From  here  I  went  on  to  Grenock,  spent  a  night  and  spoke  to  a 
large  congregation  in  a  hall.  On  the  15th  I  left  for  Belfast,  spent 
a  few  days  at  Neury;  held  several  meetings  there.  On  the  18th 
I  leave  Neury  for  Fox  Rock,  Dublin;  stopped  with  my  friend, 
Mrs.  Margaret  Davis,  whom  God  raised  up  to  help  me  so  while  in 
Africa;  God  bless  her  forever. 

During  my  stay  at  this  very  pleasant  Irish  home  I  held  several 
meetings  at  the  Friends'  Meeting  House,  Monkstown,  then  at 
different  places  in  Dublin  at  the  Wesleyan  Chapel,  etc.,  etc. 

Then,  July  30th  I  leave  Dublin  for  Leeds,  Eng.  Thank  God 
He  has  given  me  the  strength  and  the  intimation  that  I  may  start 
for  home.  Praise  His  name.  How  I  have  ever  gone  through  with 
the  work  I  have,  I  cannot  tell,  for  I  was  not  able  to  think  of  getting 
my  things  together  till  last  Monday,  the  28th.  In  the  morning 
when  I  woke  the  thought  came  how  I  should"  get  my  things  to- 
gether, and  when  I  had  thought  it  all  over  I  had  found  that  the 
dreadful  weakness  did  not  overcome  me  as  it  had  done  before.  I 
said,  praise  the  Lord,  I  can  go  home. 

I  got  up  and  wrote  to  Mr.  Stavely,  at  Liverpool,  to  get  me  a 
ticket;  this  he  could  not  do,  as  ever3^thing  was  engaged.  So  I  had 
to  wait  till  the  26th  of  August,  when  I  left  by  the  steamer  Gallier 
for  New  York,  and  arrived  Friday,  September  5,  1890. 

On  the  way  over  from  England  there  were  a  number  of  minis- 
ters aboard  and  four  or  five  Catholic  priests.  All  had  services  on 
the  Sabbath.  The  Catholics  in  the  lower  cabin,  and  the  Protest- 
ants in  the  upper  saloon. 


Amanda  Smith.  '  503 

In  the  afternoon  there  was  a  meeting  among  the  steerage  pas- 
sengers. I  went  and  listened  to  a  young  man  talking  in  very 
broken  English;  but,  oh!  so  earnest.  He  was  a  foreigner,  and  was 
speaking  from  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  John. 

There  was  a  number  of  Plymouth  brethren  among  them,  and 
they  seemed  to  have  the  right  of  way,  so  that  the  poor  young  man 
was  alone;  for,  as  a  general  thing,  they  have  but  little  sympathy  or 
fellowship  for  an3'one  that  does  not  say  as  they  say  and  teach  the 
truth  as  they  do.  All  that  I  have  ever  met  seemed  to  think  and 
endeavor  to  impress  it  upon  you  that  they  only,  know  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  all  teaching  outside  of  themselves  —  true  Plymouth 
brethren  —  is  not  safe,  and  ought  not  to  be  relied  on.  So  they  all 
started  off  from  this  poor  foreigner  except  a  few.  When  he 
stopped  the  Lord  said  to  me  as  he  said  to  Phillip,  "Go  up,  join 
yourself  to  him."     So  I  said,  "  1  want  to  sing."     I  struck  in: 

"I  praise  the  Lord  that  one  like  me, 
For  mercy  may  to  Jesus  flee. 
He  says  that  whosoever  will 
May  seek  and  find  salvation  still." 

And  then  the  chorus: 

"  My  Saviour's  promise  faileth  never; 
He  counts  me  in  the  '  whosoever.'  " 

I  sang  out  with  all  my  ransomed  powers,  and  the  people  came 
from  :ill  parts  of  the  ship.  There  was  a  great  crowd.  The  speaker 
seemed  a  little  astonished,  but  said,  "  Hallelujah.     Amen." 

When  I  got  through  with  my  song  T  began  to  speak.  O,  how 
the  Lord  helped  me.  Then  the  people  wanted  me  lo  speak  in  the 
saloon  on  Sunday  evening.  I  felt  God  wanted  me  to  do  so,  and  th-e 
door  was  open;  I  see  it  now.  I  am  careful,  and  never  like  to  overdo 
anything  —  never  like  to  do  anything  that  looks  like  I  want  to 
push  myself,  so  the  devil  took  that  advantage,  and  when  I  thought, 
I  wDuld  do  it,  he  said: 

"Now,  you  had  better  let  well  enough  alone,  there  has  been 
enough  for  to-day,  and  to-morrow  there  will  be  nothing;  why  not 
do  it  to-morrow?" 

"Yes,"  I  said,  "perhaps  that  is  the  best."  But,  no;  it  was 
not,     I  ought  to  have  done  it  when  the  Lord  bade  me. 

On  Monday  the  saloon  was  full   and  they  sang  and   played 


504  Autobiography  op 

cards  and  other  games.  No  shadow  of  a  chance  for  anyone  to 
^pcak  unless  he  just  broke  right  in  with  everything. 

"Well,"  T  said,  "I  will  speak  on  Tuesday,"  but  no,  no  chance. 

Then  I  said,  "I  will  the  last  night,"  for  they  said  we  would  not 
likely  get  in  until  Friday. 

"O,"  T  said,  "  I  will  get  ready  and  do  it  on  Thursday:"  but  I 
felt  I  should  have  spoken  Wednesday  night  anyhow. 

A  number  of  the  passengers,  ladies  and  friends,  wanted  that  I 
should  speak,  but  I  said,  "On  Thursday  night  I  will,  without 
fail,  speak  and  sing." 

But,  O,  what  a  mistake!  We  got  in  on  Thursday  afternoon, 
four  o'clock,  instead  of  Friday.  How  ashamed  and  sorry  I  was  I 
had  not  spoken  on  Wednesda}^  night,  as  the  Lord  had  showed  me. 

This  is  not  the  only  time  my  courage  has  failed  me  under  some- 
what similar  circumstances.  Once, on  my  way  from  Calcutta, India, 
to  British  Burmah,  there  were  a  number  of  English  passengers,  and 
though  they  were  respectable  and  all  right  as  far  as  I  know,  they 
were  not  of  the  best  type  of  English  ladies  and  gentlemen.  They 
were  of  an  'airish'  quality,  and  that  class  of  English  or  Ameri- 
cans, especially  when  traveling,  are  not  the  class  that  good  taste 
would  be  apt  to  admire  or  fall  in  love  with;  and  to  do  your  duty 
in  spite  of  these  surroundings  takes  a  good  deal  of  pluck,  espe- 
cially for  a  colored  woman. 

There  was  a  man,  his  wife  and  baby,  and  his  brother,  from 
.San  Francisco,  California.  The  baby  was  the  crossest  baby  I  really 
ever  saw.  It  cried  night  and  day  for  simple'amusement,  it  seemed, 
if  for  nothing  else.     Everybody  was  worn  out  with  it. 

These  Californians  seemed  to  avoid  all  Godliness.  They 
laughed  and  jeered  at  ever^'thing  that  was  said  about  religion;  but 
they  were  anxious  for  me  to  talk  on  Sunday  morning  Avhen  they 
found  out  I  was  an  evangelist;  and  I  did  pray  God  to  make  my 
duty  plain  to  me;  and  I  think  He  did  very  clearly  show  me  that  I 
was  to  speak  on  Sunday. 

They  kept  up  a  laugh  and  joke  about  it  all  Saturday,  and 
Sunday  morning  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  all  the  steerage  pas- 
sengers had  it,  and  they  seemed  as  though  they  were  looking  for- 
ward to  a  menagerie.  When  I  saw  this,  I  began  to  question,  and 
the  Devil  helped  me. 

**  You  know  you  are  not  to  cast  your  pearls  before  swine,"  he 
said. 


Amanda  Smith.  505 

Que  might  have  thought  he  was  careful  of  God's  pearls.  So  I 
did  not  do  it.     I  didn't  feel  that  I  did  right,  but  still  I  didn't  do  it. 

I  believe  God  would  have  blest  souls  on  that  steamer  if  I  had 
only  done  my  duty.  Then  the  Californians,  after  all,  seemed  dis- 
appointed, and  were  more  taunting  and  sneering  than  they  were 
before.  O,  how  I  saw  my  mistake.  I  wept  before  the  Lord,  and 
again  sought  His  forgiving  mercy.  The  mistakes  of  my  life  have 
been  many. 

O,  the  patience  and  loving  kindness  of  the  Lord,  so  infinite  in 
power  and  might,  to  bear  with  such  cowards.  How  true  the 
words  of  this  song: — 

"Were  it  not  that  love  and  mercy  in  my  Lord  abide. 
When  my  conscience  is  o'ertaken,  where  would  I  hide? 
How  could  I  live  without  Thee,  Saviour  and  friend, 
Thou  art  my  only  refuge,  saved  to  the  end." 

Upon  our  arival  at  New  York  I  was  kindly  invited  to  the  home 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gibson  at  their  pleasant  residence,  384  Union  street, 
Brooklyn.  Mrs.  Gibson  was  sick  in  bed,  but  Mr.  Gibson  met  me 
at  the  landing  and  took  me  to  his  home,  where  I  was  for  two 
weeks.  Then  I  took  a  room,  the  only  one  I  could  get;  it  was  ten 
dollars  a  month;  but  this  gave  me  a  little  chance  to  look  around; 
then  my  friend,  Mrs.  Mary  R.  Denman,  of  Newark,  N.  J.,  kindly 
gave  me  a  room  in  one  of  her  small  houses,  where  my  home  has 
been  ever  since  up  till  last  October,  when  I  came  to  Chicago. 
Since  then  I  have  decided  to  make  this  my  future  home,  but  en- 
tirely subject  to  God's  direction  and  leading. 


And  now  I  close  the  last  chapter  of  this  little  book,  which  has 
been  such  a  task  to  one  so  unskilled  in  work  of  this  kind.  There 
has  been  no  attempt  to  show  a  dash  of  rhetoric  or  intellectual 
ability,  but  just  the  simple  story  of  God's  dealings  with  a  worm. 
If,  after  all,  no  one  should  be  brought  nearer  to  God,  and  to  a 
deeper  consecration,  I  shall  be  sadly  disappointed;  for  my  whole 
object  and  wish  is  that  God  will  make  it  a  blessing  to  all  who  may 
read  it;  and  with  this  desire  and  prayer  I  send  it  fortii  to  the 
world.  And  especially  do  I  pray  that  many  of  my  own  people 
will  be  led  to  a  more  full  consecration,  and  that  the  Spirit  of  the 


50G  AUTOBIOGRArHY   OF    AMANDA   SMITH. 

Lord  may  como  upon  some  of  the  younger  women  who  have  tal- 
ent, and  who  have  had  better  opportunities  than  I  have  ever  had, 
and  so  must  do  better  work  for  the  Master;  so  that  when  I  have 
fallen  in  the  battle,  and  can  do  no  more,  they  may  take  up  the 
standard  and  bear  it  on,  with  the  inscription  deeply  engraven  on 
heart  and  life,  "Without  holiness,  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord." 


THE  END. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 


Travel 

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